


Summer Lovin'

by mela1223



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Romance, in case you're missing summertime like i am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mela1223/pseuds/mela1223
Summary: A tiger and his hamster move in together one hot summer day. Fluff and smut ensue.“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” - The Great Gatsby
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 121
Kudos: 101





	1. Moving day

**Author's Note:**

> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why’d we have to choose the hottest day of the whole fudging year to move,” she panted, one of her hands rising to smooth back over the top of her head, her hair pulled back in a ponytail which had quickly become more and more disheveled, frizzing as the day’d worn on. 
> 
> Tora smirked, “ya know, Bobby, it’d be cooler without clothes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I’ve got this one mapped out to a few chapter and that’s it! I swear! It’s all in my notes app outlined and everything!
> 
> NSFW

**Chapter 1**

Tora let the moving box drop from his hands, grunting softly as he stood back up from a low squat, heels pressing into the wood floor, back twinging at the center of his shoulders. He grabbed his wrist, stretching his arms above his head until he felt a soft pop at the center of his back, twisting from side to side as he pushed his palms toward the ceiling, fingers nearly skimming the raised, swirly pattern above. Could feel the beads of sweat leaking out from under his hat, down the back of his neck and along the dip of his spine. They’d been haulin’ boxes all day up and down the goddamn stairs of their new apartment complex—an older building a couple blocks away from the river parkway.

Fuck, it was too goddamn hot—hadn’t realized an apartment on the third floor would hold so much of the summer heat, even with the balcony door flung wide, the windows all pushed up as far as the panes would allow. And Bobby had insisted on plugging in their one fan in the kitchen where they’d placed all the plants to _keep ‘em cool_. He rolled his eyes again—it’d be a lot better if she let him stick it in the open balcony door, get the air off the river movin’ through the apartment. But she’d given him those fuckin’ puppy eyes— _ya fuckin’ sucker_ , he thought as he brought his hands to the back of his head, fingers finding the bill of the cap that rested along his low bun and tugging it up off his head. Tora ran one hand through his hair, flicking the sweat onto the floor where the drops shone in the blaze of the late afternoon sun. He pulled the hat back on—it was quickly becomin’ real fuckin’ apparent why the rent was so low in such a sought-after area—and for a unit with a balcony, no less, which had been one of Bobby’s specifications on her _wish list_ , _pfft_. There was no central cooling system and no goddamn elevator. But it was one of the few places in the city where there was green shit at every corner—even a trail along the water. Bobby’d insisted on choosin’ a place where they could smell the grass, another wish—Tora hadn’t known what the fuck she meant, but once she’d shown him, he’d agreed. Smelled nice, different than anything he was used to—reminded him of her.

“Oof!” Tora turned at the sound of something smacking against the front door that kept closing even though they’d propped it open. Was pretty fuckin’ sure the floors were uneven—yet another thing they hadn’t thought to consider before signing the lease.

“Oi, Bobby, ya good?” he quickly maneuvered around the piles of cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly around the room. They’d begun that morning by placing their shit along the perimeter of the walls. Bobby had planned a grid of the main room, had outlined where the boxes for the bedroom should go versus the kitchen and so on. But as the day’d worn on and the sun had risen higher in the sky, beating through the windows of the small space, they’d quickly given up on being organized, instead droppin’ shit in whatever empty floor space they could find before turning to trek back down the stairs. Tora reached out as he made it to the door, gripping the bottom of the box and lifting it from her hands, turning to peer over at her from around the cardboard flaps. He shifted the weight of the box in his palms, balancing it in one arm as he leaned back slightly, reaching over with his other arm to run a hand up and down her side. “Ya hurt, sweetheart?”

Her lips pulled up in a tired smile as she circled his wrist with her fingers, “s’too hot, Tora,” she slurred, lifting his hand away from her arm. They’d both sweat through their shirts a couple hours ago and he watched as she brought her hands up to tug firmly at the front of the saturated material. He smirked at her, quickly placing the box down onto another one as his eyes locked on the place where her tits dipped together, her skin flushed, glistening with heat as she fanned herself, flapping the wet cotton against her stomach. “Why’d we have to choose the hottest day of the whole fudging year to do this,” she panted, one of her hands rising to smooth back over the top of her head, her hair pulled back in a ponytail which had quickly become more and more disheveled, frizzing as the day’d worn on.

Tora smirked, “ya know, Bobby, it’d be cooler without clothes.” He cocked a brow at her as he mirrored her movements, pulling the shirt from where it clung to his stomach, the rush of air between his skin and the heavy fabric a mild bit of relief, quickly replaced by the uncomfortable stick of wet cotton, bunching where he’d pinched it.

She sighed—not nearly the strong reaction he’d been goin’ for, liked hearin’ her huff his name. But he knew she was exhausted, her face bright pink, loose strands of hair stickin’ around her face, her forehead. Cute fuckin’ hamster. “I think there’s just one more box,” she said, looking up at him, her eyebrows pulling together as her forehead wrinkled.

“Don’t gotta beg, Bobby,” he laughed, stepping around her and out the open door, “be right back.”

She smiled at him and, as he turned away from her, he felt her fingers dip under the hem of his shirt, gripping his waistband. He smirked, letting her pull him back over the threshold, her nails pressed up against the top of his ass. “You know what would feel good tonight?” she murmured.

“Mmm,” he hummed, pretending to be lost in thought as he brought his hands up to rest on the top of the door frame, his eyes sweeping the hallway, glancing at the stairs to the right, for neighbors or…shit, he came back to himself. Old habits. “Thinkin’ maybe breakin’ in the shower, whaddaya say, sweetheart?” He heard her laugh behind him as his fingers pressed into the wood lip of the frame, “what, ya had somewhere else in mind? I can be flexible,” he laughed as she dug her thumb into this lower back, “though not as bendy as you.”

“Oh jeez,” he could hear the smile on her voice, “down, tiger. I was going to say ice cream.”

“Oh, _fuck_ yes,” he said, grinning wide—knew she meant to eat it, Bobby loved her sweet shit, but he couldn’t resist teasin’ her. “Wanna lick it off every inch of ya, Bobby.”

“Tora,” she hissed, “the neighbors. We’re going to make a bad first impression.” He laughed, feeling her fingers pulling him back more firmly, but he didn’t move, the air rushing cool down along his ass as the material gapped away from his skin. He felt his arm twitch instinctively, making to catch the ghost of his past, like he still expected the gun to fall to the floor as she tugged again on his waistband. 

“Tell ya what sweetheart, I’m gonna go grab this box, and then I’ll go get ya some ice cream. Sound good?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, felt her toes skim up against his heels as she wrapped her arms around him, her hands working their way up under his shirt, pressing her palms against his abs. Tora let his eyes close, his arms slackening on the door frame at the heat of her against him. Could already feel the sweat dripping down his ass from the contact, but he didn’t fuckin’ care. Loved feelin’ her against him. “How’s your back?” she asked, moving her head against his side so she could peer up at him from under his arm. Tora glanced down at her, smiling at the way her face had grown redder from the heat of his body.

“M’fine, sweetheart.” When she raised her eyebrows at him as if to ask _really_ , he lowered his arms, releasing the door frame and rotating in her embrace. He dipped down, pressing his lips to her forehead, slipping against the sweat along her hairline. “Tell ya what, Bobby, why don’t ya work on diggin’ out some glasses so we can get some water. Ya look a little overheated,” he said, placing a finger under her chin and smiling at her. She eyed him for a moment, could clearly see through the deflection, knew the old injury was flarin’ up like it always did under heat and exertion. He tilted his head, _please_. Finally, she nodded, her thumbs rubbing along his back a couple times before she stood up on her tiptoes. He met her halfway, bending down as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, could feel the sweat above her upper lip slipping against his as she pulled away, lowering back down to her heels.

“Okay, I’ll look for the tiger balm, too,” she said, glancing back behind her. Fuck, how in the hell had he gotten so goddamned lucky? He watched for a moment as she walked away, his eyes dragging down from the darker hair at the nape of her neck to the press of her shirt along her spine, her ass practically hangin’ out of her little pink shorts as she bent over one of the boxes. He swallowed thickly before turning to head out back down the stairs. Fuck, he really hoped she’d be in the mood later—had been watchin’ her all day, the cling of her white shirt as it grew more and more transparent with sweat, the dip of her neckline as she bent over to move shit around the truck. He stuck his hand in the front pocket of his shorts, readjusting himself subtly as he made his way down to the second floor landing and lifting the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his face—as bad as it was in the apartment, the air in the stairwell was sweltering, stagnant heat pressing down around him from all sides. He dropped the fabric from his fingers, blinking a couple times before stopping short, nearly running into a woman holding a trash bag.

“Shit, my bad,” he grumbled, side-stepping her.

“No, you’re all good,” she called after him as he hopped down the rest of the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he made his way outside, the sight of the near-empty truck made him drop his head back, the bill of the cap rubbing at his neck. Thank fuck, it’d been a long goddamned day. He needed a fuckin’ shower and to lie down on the floor, not move for an hour or two. At the mention of the tiger balm, he’d realized how much his back actually ached—the idea of Bobby’s cool hands smoothin’ the shit on him…fuck, maybe she’d even let him move the fan out into the main room. And once they weren’t so fuckin’ hot and sweaty, once she’d gotten some ice cream, hell, maybe she’d be down to fool around. He smirked at the idea, all the new places they could fuck, could make love. Wanted to feel her bare body all pressed up against his, wanted to hear her moans filling their new home. _Their home_ , fuck, he really was a sap, huh. Tora squatted, smiling to himself as he picked up the box before striding back out of the truck, hopping down off the lip and reaching to pull down the sliding door. He turned, nearly dropping the box at the woman who’d stepped out from the side of the vehicle. “Motherfuck—” he quickly readjusted his grip on the corners, glancing back up at her with a frown. Where the fuck’d she come from?

She tilted her head to the side, “hey, you new here?” He frowned harder. Course he was fuckin’ new here, couldn’t she see the fuckin’ movin’ truck? The box in his hands labeled BOBBY’S BOOKS? She glanced down at the label, and back up at him, smiling, “you like to read, Bobby?”

“Lady, I got girlfriend,” he said, stepping around her and making his way back to the front entrance.

“Shame,” she called after him as he rolled his eyes, jaw clicking. Wasn’t gonna let this ruin the night. Was still hopin’ Bobby might be up for a shower. Hell, she knew the cold water helped his back…maybe— “you ever get bored, I’m in 2C.”

He huffed, opening the door to the complex and shifting the box up higher against his chest as he made his way up the stairs and to their door on the third floor. It was closed, and Tora rolled his eyes, leaning his head back. Hadn’t brought a key—he tried the handle, balancing the box against the wall, but it was locked. “Oi, Bobby,” he called, knocking the back of his index knuckle on the door, “I’m locked out, lemme in.”

He heard her footsteps on the other side, could see her shadow along the bright strip of sunlight under the door a moment before she pulled it open, her face still flushed pink as she smiled down at the box. “Oh, my books!” she grinned.

“Ya mean ya porn,” he smirked, correcting her as she huffed.

“Neighbors,” she hissed, widening her eyes at him as she ushered him into the apartment, both her hands pulling at his forearm.

“S’damn heavy, Bobby. How much smut ya need?”

“Tora, we’ve been over this—research,” she smirked at him as he let his mouth fall open, his eyes rolling up toward the ceiling.

“Thought I was all the research ya needed,” he groaned, maneuvering the box away from her hands as she made to take it from him. “Nah, got it sweetheart. Really is heavy,” he said, moving to place the box on the floor around a couple other smaller ones. “Ya find the glasses, Bobby?” he asked as she closed and locked the door, a habit she’d gotten much better about since they’d been together. “Fuckin’ parched over here,” he murmured, coming up behind her and grabbing her ass as she squeaked. _Pfft._

“Not yet,” she said, her hands moving to circle his wrists, pulling him away from her gently. He smirked, stepping out around her and moving to the kitchen. Tora shifted some of the potted plants with his toes, the leaves of the taller ones skimming along his torso as he carefully navigated his way through the kitchen and to the sink where there were even more pots crowded on the counter.

“S’like a fuckin’ jungle in here, Bobby,” he called over to her, reaching his arms up to grab the neck of his shirt along his traps, the wet cotton sticking to his back as he peeled it up and over his head, the hat catching in the fabric as he finally managed to get it over his head. Fuckin’ disgusting. He turned the tap on cold, running two fingers under it as he sighed, letting his gaze pull up to the window above the sink—could see the river peeking out from around some of the trees down the street, smelled the grass through the open panes as he closed his eyes, relaxing his elbow against the edge of the sink, his wrist falling under the cool liquid. Let himself settle into the moment, the tension in his shoulders sliding down his back the way the water slid over his pulse point. He heard her approach before he felt her fingers running up the wet hair along the back of his head where it all pulled into the disheveled bun that’d been matted down by his hat.

As she ran her nails gently along his scalp, he groaned soft, a rumble in his chest at her touch, leaning his head back into her hand and tilting slightly as she scratched up along his hairline by his ear. She always knew exactly how to unknot him, pulling the stress straight from his body. His cock pressed eager against the front of his shorts, and he groaned again at the friction combined with the feel of her fingers stroking him. Without opening his eyes, he moved his hand up, feeling for the faucet, running his hand down the length of the cold metal until he found the knob, flicking the water off before bringing his palms to press against the counter. As he pushed his head back into her hand, he felt his triceps tighten, her other hand rising up to thumb at the ridge of his muscle as he bit his lip on an exhale. Felt fuckin’ dizzy as she pressed her lips, her nose to his back. Tora’s eyes flew open at the feel of her tongue hot against his skin as her mouth opened around the kiss, the light scrape of her teeth sending tingles up and down his spine, straight to his balls as he cock stiffened, pressing hard into the counter. A low sound escaped his throat and he felt her smile against his back, the hand in his hair tightening, tugging his head to the side just slightly as her other hand dipped around his waist, down to the front of his shorts as she pressed the length of her body to his.

Tora inhaled sharply at the feel of her bare skin, her nipples tight against his back—hadn’t realized she’d stripped, when the fuck had she—

Her hand dipped below his waistband, fingers tangling in the damp curls of hair just above his cock as Tora shuddered a sigh, his breath coming shallow as she slipped her thumb and index finger around his base, lightly rotating her hand, a ring around his cock. He swallowed, his mouth falling open at her touch, panting against the soft whir of the fan, the sound of the leaves brushing together as the air circled the room lazily, pushing the humidity between the counters, the faint sounds of cars on the parkway below. “Poppy,” he breathed as her fingers threaded against his scalp, her other hand moving featherlight up along the underside of his cock with an open palm. He felt her wrist catch on the waistband of his shorts and, a moment later, she’d tugged them down, hand returning a little lower to cup his balls, the skin tight, now drawn up against his body despite the heat.

“Poppy,” he moaned, inhaling sharply as she stroked him up and down, her pressure so light, barely there, her lips on his back, tongue dipping along his spine. Needed more, he needed more of her. Tora lifted his palms from the counter, rotating in her arms as she released her hands on him, his breath catching in his chest at the sight of her behind him, hair frizzing like a halo around her head, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide as she bit her bottom lip. And her body, fuck—in nothin’ but her undies. He stepped forward, as she backed up until she was pressed against the opposite counter, her hands on his hips as he brought his palm up to cradle her jaw, angling her head back as he kissed her, his other hand moving to cup her tit. She moaned into his mouth as he rolled her nipple, the sweat on their bodies making every move wet with friction. His hand slid down from her breast along her side, dipping back around to squeeze her, fingers catching in her waistband, drawing the cotton down below the swell of her ass as he swept his hand over her curves.

Her hands mirrored his, tugging at his shorts and briefs together until she broke away from his lips, quickly ducking down to pull first his, then her undies down, the damp fabric pooling around their feet just before she kicked hers away. “Touch me, Tora” she murmured, reaching back up to circle his neck as he groaned, leaning down into her, lips crushing against hers as his arms wrapped around her back, pulling her body flush against his. Could hear the kiss of sweat between their chests as he picked her up against him, resting her ass against the counter as she wrapped her feet around his waist, pulling him down closer to her as her tongue stroked hot against his, her fingers in his hair again. Poppy moaned again as the head of his cock rubbed along her folds. He kissed his way down her neck, panting against her skin as he slicked along her core again—fuck, angle wasn’t right, he realized. The height of the counter wasn’t gonna work like at her old place, and he didn’t think his legs had the strength to support her entirely right now—at least not in a way that’d be enjoyable for both of ‘em—after the long day they’d had.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he breathed against her, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck, gently sucking her skin between his teeth as she tightened her legs around him, her moans louder each time he swirled his tongue over her. “Bobby,” he panted, “gotta put ya down. Turn around, sweetheart,” he murmured as she released her legs from him, slicking against his cock as she slid down his front, turning so that the backs of her thighs pressed against his quads. He wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her slightly until she brought her right knee up to the counter, her other bare foot pushing down on top of his, pressing up on her toes as he lined himself up at her entrance, dipping between her folds a couple more times as she panted his name before he slowly pushed inside her.

“Aaaaah,” she moaned as his head fell against her shoulder, breathing hard as he pressed into her further, burying himself until his hips were flush against her ass. She hummed against him, pushing back, rolling her hips subtly as he breathed a soft laugh. Liked savorin’ this moment, the first couple seconds of bein’ joined with her again, the feel of her walls tight around him, skin-to-skin. Only thing he liked better was bein’ face-to-face. He pressed a kiss to her neck before pulling out and pushing back into her as she gasped, his right hand trailing down her body to palm her ass, helping to support her knee on the counter. She liked it from behind, wouldn’t be long before she was strugglin’ to hold herself up, he thought with a smirk as he thrust into her again, again. His teeth on her neck, her skin salty with sweat, musk, her sweet scent filling his mouth, his nostrils as he listened to the sound of their damp skin smacking together, her moans growing louder against their new kitchen, empty save for the abundance of plants they’d brought from her old place and from his. “To-raaaa,” she gasped as his left hand slid up and down her side before settling on her tit, fingers rolling her nipple as her panting grew more ragged, could feel the tension in his own groin coiling. Her right hand slipped between their legs, cupping his balls as he gasped against her neck.

“Fuck, Bobby,” his thrusts shuddered as she did it again and he groaned, nosing her hair away from her neck as he inhaled her deeply, fingers squeezing her ass, the back of her thigh. He felt her move her hand up to her clit, could hear her rubbin’—fuck, the sound alone drove him fuckin’ wild, and her moanin’. Her toes pressed harder into his foot as she arched back into him. Tora clenched his jaw speeding up his thrusts to match the rhythm of her ass smacking against his hips as he felt her walls start to tighten around him.

“Tora, please,” she moaned, her voice echoing around the kitchen, the plants dampening some of it but not much as he felt her start to come, her muscles spasming, so wet and hot around his cock as he thrust up into her once, twice, three more times before pulling out and stroking himself as he came on her ass. He breathed deep, leaning down further and pressing open-mouthed kisses to her bare shoulder, his hands moving to her waist, lifting her slightly to help her down off the counter before reaching back around and stretching to pinch the fabric of his shirt off the counter behind them.

“Here, Bobby, hold still,” he murmured, kissing her again before bending slightly to wipe the material up from the back of her thigh and over the swell of her ass. As he wiped himself down, she stepped off his foot, moving out from between his body and the counter and padding out of the kitchen. He watched as her hips swayed, the skin of her body flushed a delicate pink, the sweat glistening on her back, beads of it shining on her skin. She paused, turning to him and extending a hand backwards. “Let’s get you in the shower,” she murmured.

Tora smirked, dropping the shirt onto the pile of clothes on the floor and striding over to her, “oh yeah, Bobby? Ready to break it in?” He watched as she bit the inside of her mouth against a smirk, _oh fuck, yeah._ He could go again soon, loved feelin’ her in the shower, gettin’ all sudsy and shit. They’d need to find the soap though, he thought, quickly glancing around at the boxes behind her. “Bet the neighbors’d be able to hear ya even better in the bathroom, all echoey and shit—make a real good impression,” he laughed at the expression on her face as her mouth fell open.

“What do you mean?”

His smile fell slightly, “I mean, shit, Bobby. Ya get pretty loud.”

Her eyes widened, “not _that_ loud,” she whispered.

Tora raised his eyebrows at her, his hand slipping into hers as he pulled himself up over to her, “Bobby, don’t get me wrong—no complaints here. I fuckin’ love it,” he extended his pinky finger to her as she took it in hers as though through a daze, “but ya fuckin’ loud, sweetheart.”

She looked at him in shock, her mouth hanging open. “Was I—just now? Loud?” she breathed.

The smile he’d been trying to repress slowly crept up his face at the look on hers. “I mean. It was good, right?” he nodded at her as if to say, _it was fuckin’ good and ya know it._

She looked away from him, reaching out a hand to stroke the leaves of the nearest plant. “Well,” she said, seeming to come to a decision, “I guess no more sex.” She shrugged, turning to walk away from him as Tora felt his mouth fall open, his eyes grow wide. _What in the fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for reading and for your comments!! This one is just plain fun. Love me some FLUFF
> 
> Chapter 2: Bobby, ya can't be serious...


	2. Cool-down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora tries to get Poppy to see reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is fluff, is tiny bit smut!
> 
> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Chapter 2**

She looked away from him, reaching out a hand to stroke the leaves of the nearest plant. “Well,” she said, seeming to come to a decision, “I guess no more sex.” She shrugged, turning to walk away from him as Tora felt his mouth fall open, his eyes grow wide. _What in the fuck?_

Tora watched as she moved away from him, his eyes drawing to her hips as they swayed, could see little beads of sweat glistening down her back, her skin flushed. Temptin’ him. Thoughts of the shower which, just moments ago, had seemed a for-sure thing, washin’ away. “I mean, that or I’ll just have to not make any sound—shouldn’t be too hard, I think I can do it. What do you—” she turned to her left, as though expecting him to be beside her, quickly turning back to look at the kitchen where Tora still stood, dumbfounded, “—think.”

“Bobby, ya can’t be serious.”

“Tora, I don’t want the neighbors hearing me…us,” she breathed, watching him with wide eyes, her hand still stretched toward him as he slowly made his way over to her, stepping around the boxes in his path without taking his eyes off her face. Her cheeks growing redder as she seemed to think about that—the neighbors listening.

He felt his eyebrows pull further up his forehead, a grin creeping along his lips as he ducked his head down, stepping up to her so that his toes were nearly touching hers. “Bobby,” he brought his fingers to her chin, angling her head up so that he could meet her eyes, “ya see that box over there?” he nodded toward the last one he’d brought in, the place where he’d scrawled BOBBY’S BOOKS in black marker facing them. She glanced across the room, sighing as she rolled her eyes.

“Tora—”

“Ya never used to mind at ya old place or mine,” he murmured. “Or Quincey’s…the car—”

“Well, I didn’t know—”

“Bullshit,” he smirked. “Nah, I call _horse_ shit on that, sweetheart.” As she opened her mouth to push back, he dipped his head lower, bending over her until his lips brushed her ear, damp with sweat, her hairline slick along his nose. “Ya full of shit, Bobby. I know ya like lettin’ loose, and I love hearin’ ya. So, fuck ‘em,” he said, settling his palms on her waist, stroking his hands down along the curves that swelled above her ass where he liked to hold her when she rode him. “Let ‘em hear us,” he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, felt her sigh in her throat, a hum against his lips, his tongue. Her hands came up to hold his elbows, fingers so light on his skin, “let ‘em hear how much I love ya.” He felt her laugh soft against him as she squeezed his arms. Tora stood back up, his back spasming along the old injury. His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as it passed. Only had eyes for her, trying to put the pain from his mind as he watched her soft smile, her eyes, closed as she leaned into his touch, his hand swiping at a bead of sweat that had escaped from her hair, threatening to drip down along her eyelid. “Whaddaya say, still up for a shower?”

She nodded, blinking up at his face, her smile faltering as she caught his wince. “Yeah,” she murmured, eyebrows pulling together as her lips turned down, “it’s your back, isn’t it.” Not a question. _Fuck_ , no way was he gettin’ her to agree to shower sex now.

No use hidin’ it either, he realized as his muscle spasmed again. Tora rolled his neck on a shallow inhale, holding the air in his lungs, trying not to let his chest expand—made it fuckin’ worse to breathe, like his ribs were crackin’ open. She let go of his arms, bringing her fingers to his face and stroking her thumbs along his jaw where his teeth clenched together. “Okay, okay,” she murmured, “let’s get you under some cold water.” _Fuck_ , he knew she was right but goddamn, he’d just wanted to run his hands up and down her body, make her pant again, moan with his fingers. Show her exactly how much he loved hearin’ her in the heat of the small apartment.

“I know where the box is, have to grab soap, towels,” she murmured as he released her, exhaling slow, letting her slip from his arms as she padded back across the room. “You go get started,” she pointed toward the bathroom door. “Cold water,” she called after him as he made his way across the cool tile floor, flipping the knob of the shower to the coldest setting.

He turned to look at her through the open doorway as he stepped into the tub, watched as she dug through a box, shifting around the room as she searched, the leaves of the plants in the kitchen behind her swaying with the slow movements of the fan. Her hair stuck to her skin where she rubbed the back of her hand along her forehead, her neck, catching the drops of sweat. He’d been trying to work on not staring at her—knew she still squirmed if she caught him looking at her for too long, but fuck, she was beautiful. Couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Still couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky, that she wanted him. Tora ran his hand under the water, testing to make sure it was icy. They hadn’t put up the shower curtain yet—he’d look for it later. For now, though, she was right. Needed to ice his fuckin’ back. Tora gritted his teeth as he stepped backwards into the stream of water, rolling his shoulders as the spray hit him like shards of glass, raising a hand to brace himself against the wall to his left as he closed his eyes, hanging his head. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his body relaxing at the cold pressure, could feel his heart rate calming as the air steamed around him, either from the heat of his body or the room—couldn’t tell.

“That better be cold.” Tora grinned, opening one eye and peering over at her without turning his head.

“ _I’m_ not the sadistic one, sweetheart,” he murmured as she approached the side of the tub, placing the bottles down along the edge and tossing two towels over the empty curtain rod. “I know what’s good for me.”

She laughed soft, “oh, do you now? Cause I’m pretty sure hauling two and three boxes at a time up the stairs wasn’t _good for you_ ,” she lowered her voice as she used his words.

“Ya not thinkin’ ahead though, Bobby,” he murmured, glancing up and down her body before settling his hooded eyes on her face. “S’a long game—got ya all hot and bothered, didn’t it?” He smirked as she blushed, her already-pink skin tinging a deeper red. “Havin’ ya pressed up against the counter— _definitely_ fuckin’ good for me, Bobby. Definitely.”

She clicked her teeth, rolling her eyes against a smile as she raised one foot to step into the tub, “Oi, Bobby,” Tora moved his fingers to her arm, steadying her as he blinked his other eye open against a bead of sweat that’d run down into the corner. “S’real fuckin’ cold, ya not gonna like it,” he said as she lifted her other foot into the tub, moving her hand to his forearm and running her thumb along his tendons.

“Tora, it’s like a million degrees in here,” she laughed, bending forward to reach for one of the bottles—his shampoo. “Thank you for your concern,” she pressed a kiss to his chest, “but I think I’ll manage.” He watched as she squeezed some of the gel into her hand, holding his palm out to her for some, before she placed the bottle back down. “Besides, there’s a six-foot-three giant blocking most of the water anyway,” she smirked up at him as he rolled his eyes.

“‘Kay, shorty,” he murmured, “gettin’ real feisty for a hamster.”

“ _Tch_ ,” she clicked her teeth at him, “I can handle you.” She squeezed his hip as she shook her head on a smile. _Pfft, yeah she could_. “Turn around,” she murmured, tapping the side of his ass to guide him as he rotated, facing the spray of water. He felt her palms spread against his lower back, the sensation sending tingles down his legs where the heat of her hands pressed into his ice-cold skin. He groaned, swallowing as he stretched his face to catch the water, feeling the hot sweat rolling from his forehead down his neck, his chest. As he felt her hands begin to work the soap up his spine, he reached up and pulled out his bun, dipping his head into the stream of the water as he let it pour across his scalp, soaking into his roots, a shock down to his toes as his chest seized on an inhale. “Sorry, too much?” she asked from behind him, swiping her hands lower, away from the center of his back.

“Nah, Bobby,” he turned slightly to face her before rubbing his hands together and standing back up to lather his hair. “Was me. Got a hot head,” he smirked at her as she carefully maneuvered around him, stepping into the spray so that she faced away from him.

She laughed, “a hot head, huh?

Tora swiped his hands once more over his hair, pushing the suds away from his forehead before he dipped down, lowering his hands to run down her back, suds-ing her skin, letting his fingers trail down the smooth curve of her spine before cupping her ass, his hands shifting around her body to pull her up against him by her hips, “ya tell me, Bobby,” he murmured as he rubbed his cock against the top of her ass.

“Mmm,” she hummed, rolling her hips slightly as his hands dipped to the hair along her crotch, running the soap along her curls before slipping his hand between her thighs, two fingers running along her outer lips where her pelvis met her center, felt her toes, hot against his foot as she shifted her stance. “Careful—soap,” she gasped as he ran his thumb over her clit.

Tora smirked, pulling his hand up and running his fingers under the water, rinsing her off as his other hand palmed her tits, his forearm pressing against the heavy underside of her chest as he rolled one of her nipples, so fuckin’ tight under the cold water. “Shit, sweetheart,” he breathed, the water streaming over his lips as he kissed her jaw, “ya seem real fuckin’ eager for someone who was just swearin’ off sex.” He dipped his fingers back down, slipping them between her folds, felt like fire on his fingers, her wet heat tightening around him as he slipped a finger inside her, groaning against her ear. His cock stiffened above her ass, could feel the blood rushing hot to his groin as he swallowed thickly.

“Mmm, real eager to get some ice on your back,” she murmured, her breath hitching as he curled his finger inside her. _Pfft, yeah fuckin’ right_ , he thought. She fuckin’ wanted him as much as he wanted her. He’d seen her watchin’ him as he moved boxes into the truck, sometimes takin’ two and three at time just so his muscles would bulge a little more against his sweaty t-shirt. Had definitely overdone it, would be feelin’ it in his back for the rest of the week at least, but shit, he loved the way she looked at him. She brought her hand down to grip his, and he felt her hold him tighter to her body, the heel of his palm rubbing against her clit as he fingered her. He squeezed her tit again and she moaned, her hand suddenly flying up off of his and slapping against her mouth as his torso shook on a laugh against her back. Tora raised his hand up from her chest, pulling lightly at her wrist until she’d uncovered her mouth, looking back at him with wide eyes. Her voice had reverberated in the bathroom—hadn’t even been that loud of a moan and yet it’d bounced around the tiles, easily overpowering the sound of the water on their bodies.

He watched as something shifted in her eyes, the heat leaving them and he sighed, _fuck_. “Bobby,” he started as her hand gripped his wrist, pulling him from between her thighs.

“M-mmm,” she shook her head as she bent to grab her shampoo, his cock bobbing up into the air over her back as he bit his lip, watching her ass wiggle, could see the pink skin between her cheeks, knew she was ready for him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

“Bobby,” he tried again, his own voice so fuckin’ desperate, groaning as she stood back up and turned around, her tits bouncin’ as she worked a lather into her hair, closing her eyes and leaning her head back into the water as her hair curtained back behind her, heavy and smooth as the suds ran down the drain. He bit his tongue as he watched her stretch, her body on full display, and he couldn’t fuckin’ touch her. Wanted nothin’ more than to touch her, hear her, feel her. Fuck, he wanted to taste her, too, had been hopin’ she’d let him tonight once they’d gotten the mattress set up. Wanted to take his time with her in their new home together, get comfy between her thighs, maybe use some of the ice cream once he got back from the store. Sweet shit. Tora sighed as she pulled her head back up, squeezing the water from her hair as she blinked open at him.

“Your turn,” she murmured, placing another chaste kiss to his chest before maneuvering back around him, carefully avoiding his fuckin’ hard-on as she reached for one of the towels, stepping from the tub and patting the soft material down the lengths of her arms. Tora watched her for a moment before he shut his eyes, moving back under the water to rinse his hair. The shower had cooled him down significantly, was almost feeling chilled now as the water bit down his hair, his shoulders. He inhaled sharply as it ran down his cock, his balls, could feel both pulling back against his body, the blood pumping back toward his core before he reached to kill the knob. Tora squeezed his hair and ran his fingers over his eyelids, catching the water and flicking it down from his face before blinking open at their new bathroom, his heart skipping for a moment at the unfamiliar room—it was going to take some time to get used to, he realized. But Bobby was here, and if she was here then it was home. He reached out, grabbing the other towel she’d thrown over the top of the curtain rod, quickly drying himself off before tossing it back up and padding out to the main room.

She’d pulled on a different pair of shorts—the ones he’d gotten her one of the last times Quincey had dragged him out shopping—light pink and covered in little potted spikey plants—the succulents, _pfft_. He’d thought she might like ‘em—hadn’t expected her to cry, but she’d insisted they were _good tears_. She wore one of his old shirts, had tied the hem up above her waist so that the fabric just covered the swell of her tits, could tell she wasn’t wearin’ a bra as she walked over to meet him, a clean pair of undies, shorts, and a t-shirt in her hand. “Found your box of clothes,” she said, handing him the fabric before she reached up to grab at her hair, detangling it with her fingers high above her head. Tora pulled on the briefs, watching as the shirt rose between her tits, the bottoms swelling out from the thin fabric as she knotted her hair up in a bun on top of her head. He could already see a trail of sweat seeping through the shirt at the center of her chest as she watched him watching her. “Haven’t found the stuff from the medicine cabinet yet,” she folded her arms under her chest, leaning against one of the boxes as he pulled on the shorts, “but I did find the ice packs, some of them are still a little cold if you wanted to use one now. Threw them all in the freezer,” she nodded back toward the kitchen. “It’s too hot to cook tonight, and I’m tired,” she continued, tilting her head at him as he nodded.

“I can make somethin’, Bobby.”

“No,” she shook her head, “absolutely not, you need to rest.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes lightly as he pulled the shirt over his head, walking to stand in front of her. He held his hand out and, when she’d wrapped her fingers around his, pulled her up to stand against him. “Bobby, m’fine. Stop worryin’ ‘bout me. Gonna go out, get ya some ice cream,” he smiled as she opened her mouth.

“Tora, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he bent, kissing her forehead as she let out a sigh through her nose. “Gotta drop the truck back off at the rental lot anyway, grab the car. Don’t wanna get towed,” he murmured against her skin before standing up.

“Yeah, not again,” she bit her lip around a smirk as he let his mouth fall open exaggeratedly. Fuck, he loved it when she teased him ‘bout his drivin’. Sometimes parked worse just to hear her snark. “Guys at the impound lot are gonna have you on speed dial pretty soon,” she laughed.

“Fuckin’ A, Bobby,” he shook his head, biting the inside of his mouth so she wouldn’t see him grinnin’ like fuckin’ idiot. Apparently, it hadn’t helped, though, as she reached up, working one of her fingers along his dimple. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.” He leaned down, pressed a kiss to her lips before stepping out around from her, striding to the front door and toeing on his sneakers.

“Tora, socks,” she said, eyeing his bare feet.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need to shower again when I get back anyway,” he grimaced as the soles of his feet squished against the sweaty interiors of the shoes, but he wasn’t gonna be long.

She walked over to him, crossing her arms under her chest again and peering down at his shoes as he scooped up the two sets of keys and his phone from a nearby box. “If they stink when you come back, you better leave them outside the door,” she said, looking up at him with the look she gave him when she wasn’t takin’ his shit.

“ _Pfft, pfft_ , cute fuckin’ hamster,” he laughed, reaching out and pinching her cheek as she leaned backwards.

“Tora, I mean it,” she insisted. He moved his hand so that his palm cupped the back of her head, pulling her gently toward him as she finally relented, unfolding her arms and resting her hands on his hips. He bent down, pressing his lips to hers until he felt her hum against him, melting softly as her chest pressed to his torso. When he pulled away, he held her gaze, “I’ll leave ‘em outside the door, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Why don’t ya call in an order to Fred’s—I’ll be in the area, can pick up some dinner for us.” He watched as she smiled—knew she had a sweet spot for the old man, same as he did for her.

“You tell him he better be taking his meds,” she said, raising her brows at him meaningfully, “can you check when you’re there?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he reached out to pull open the front door, as her palms slipped around the fingers of his other hand.

“And tell him his gingko supplements aren’t the same,” she said, her voice rising slightly, her brows pulling together.

“Shit, Bobby. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll let him know, but ya gotta understand he’s a grown man. Only so much we can do,” he said softly, squeezing her hand as he opened the door. “And he’s fuckin’ stubborn as shit, ya might have more luck than me.

She smiled, “yeah. I’ll remind him on the phone.” She nodded, pressing her lips together. “I’ll keep looking for the tiger balm, don’t overdo it, okay? I’ll give you a nice massage tonight.”

He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand before she let him go. He bit his lip around a smirk considering whether or not to say what he wanted to say. _Fuck it_ , he though, unable to suppress the grin across his face as he watched her own smile fall into her take-no-shit look. “That include a happy endin’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 3: more fluff cause why not!


	3. Her tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora returns to the apartment with goodies and a world of hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly love writing this fic so much, makes me all 🥰🥰
> 
> Some NSFW
> 
> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Chapter 3**

“Oi, Bobby!” Tora called, tapping his shoe along the bottom of the front door to their apartment, “got my hands full, sweetheart, open up.” He was half-stooped, his back screaming in protest as the fingers of his left hand gripped the large circular mirror where he’d carefully rested the bottom of the heavy pane along the toe of his left sneaker. The bag from Fred’s swung dangerously close to the glass where it’d slipped down from his left elbow. Tora quickly maneuvered his arms to stop the momentum, could feel the paper handles of the shopping bag full of ice cream digging into the skin of his right arm beneath the two potted plants he cradled against his torso.

They’d caught his eye from the corner of the grocery store where there’d been a couple shelves of sad-lookin’ pots, the leaves all droopy and shit, marked on clearance, sixty percent off. He’d seen ‘em from the corner of his eye and had really been determined to walk right on by, remembering the fuckin’ jungle in their new kitchen, but had only made it a few steps before turning back around. Hated the thought of ‘em abandoned in the store, found himself wondering what Bobby would do. Shit, he really was a fuckin’ sucker now, he sighed to himself as his back spasmed, shoulder tensing as he grimaced, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut against the door. “Poppylan, please,” he gasped, tapping on the door again. His arms were ‘bout to give out, he was sure of it.

He heard her quick footsteps approaching and blinked, trying to school his face into a neutral expression as she pulled the door open, her eyes going wide as she took in the sight of him. “Oh, Tora. You’re going to hurt your back—here, let me,” she reached out her hands, not quite sure what to take from him, her gaze landing on the plants as she gasped, her look of concern at war with the wide grin that threatened to overtake her face. He smiled at her, laughing softly at her expression as her grin finally won. “You brought home more babies?” she squealed, quickly taking the pots from his arms and running her fingers over the leaves and stepping back into the apartment, holding the door wide for him as he lifted the mirror, toeing off his shoes outside the door. The bottoms of his bare feet were slick with sweat, slipping along the hardwood as he stepped into the apartment.

“Where’d you find them,” she breathed, holding the plants up in the dim overhead light of the main room, her eyebrows pulling together in concern at their withered state.

“They were gonna toss ‘em at the market,” he sighed, letting the bag of ice cream slide down his arm and into his fingers as he turned to lean the overly-large mirror against the wall behind him.

“Aw, you saved them,” she murmured, smiling softly at the pots before lowering her voice and leaning close to the leaves, “he’s a very good plant daddy, isn’t he?” 

Tora barked a laugh as she glanced up at him in surprise. “Shit, sweetheart—I’m a what now?”

She shook her head, feigning ignorance as she plastered a blank look across her face. “Don’t know what you mean.” Her gaze fell to the mirror behind him as he laughed, stepping around her with the bags of food, headed toward the kitchen—was happy to see she’d moved the plants to the balcony, the door open with the fan pointed in. Could feel the cool breeze off the river on his damp skin, the t-shirt that clung to the center of his back. “What’s that?”

Tora glanced back over his shoulder at the mirror, “s’a mirror, Bobby.”

“ _Tch_ , Tora,” she huffed, could hear her bare feet against the wood floor as she followed him into the kitchen, moving to the sink where she ran some water over the plants, setting them down on the counter. “I mean _why_ do you have a mirror.”

“S’a gift from Quince,” he muttered, placing the takeout down and opening up the grocery bag as he moved to the freezer. “Insisted I stop by his place on my way back from droppin’ off the truck—said he had to give me somethin’ _life-changin’_ ,” he rolled his eyes as Poppy laughed. “Said it’d _transform the space_ , whatever the fuck that means,” he grumbled, shoving his hand in the bag to grab some of the cartons of ice cream. “Wanted me to take that big-ass fuckin’ lamp he’s got, too—can ya believe he’s already redecoratin’ again?” He shook his head—his brother had waited a long damn time to get the fuckin’ lamp and was already switchin’ it out for a new one, but he knew Bobby liked it, so he hadn’t outright declined the offer. “Told him it wouldn’t fit in the car with the fuckin’ monster mirror. Says he’s gonna send it by sometime later this week.”

Tora finished lining up the pints in the mostly empty freezer, lingering briefly as he let the chilly air caress the sweat along his brow. He’d debated picking up some of the essentials while he was out, but he liked shoppin’ with Bobby. Liked the time with her, teasin’ her about her sweets. Liked the way the other customers didn’t duck out of his way in fear, too. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d be cookin’ shit until they unpacked anyway. It could wait. Figured they could go together in a day or two. And Quincey’d pissed him off—the pain in his back didn’t help either. He’d just wanted to get home to Bobby.

She hummed, “that was nice of him. It’s very…” she searched for her words, thinking carefully as she regarded the giant piece of glass against the wall of the other room. “Quincey,” she finished, smiling up at him as he closed the door to the freezer. “Maybe we could hang it in the bathroom, replace the one above the sink—looks a little old, the edges are cracked, too.” She shrugged, tilting her head at the gift from across the apartment before she turned her gaze back to him.

“Oh yeah, not in the bedroom?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he folded up the brown paper bag and handed it to her—knew she’d want to start her compost shit again once they’d unpacked. She tilted her head at him, raising an eyebrow in question as she folded the bag over once more so that it was a narrow rectangle, her fingers smoothing over the paper as she pressed on the creases. “Angles, Bobby,” he said, lowering his voice so that it husked the way he knew got her goin’.

Her lips parted on a quiet gasp and he wiggled his eyebrows at her as he folded his arms across his chest, trying to ignore the pain that shot up to his neck as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She glanced down at the floor, shaking her head softly and he followed her gaze, seeing where he’d left footprints of sweat on the tile.

“Why don’t you go shower, tiger,” she said, leaning against the fridge and nodding back toward the bathroom. “Can smell your feet from here,” she smiled as he rolled his eyes.

“Cause ya so low to the ground,” he dodged her hand as she reached out to smack his arm, quickly side-stepping out of the room as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Oi, Bobby,” he glanced around the room, realizing that, in addition to moving the jungle beyond the sliding glass door to the balcony, she’d also moved most of the boxes out of the way. He’d thought he’d known where the open one with his clothes was, but now…

“Bedroom,” she called, seemingly understanding what he was searching for. He nodded, making his way to the other room as he pulled off his shirt, chucking it in the corner—had no fuckin’ idea where the hamper was, just wanted to get under the cold water again. Tora glanced around the room for the box, but only saw a couple empty ones she’d folded up. He smiled to himself as he made his way to the chest of drawers they’d brought from his place, biting his lip as he opened it, takin’ a wild fuckin’ guess that she’d taken the time to put all his shit away. And sure as shit, he found she’d placed all his undies back in the top drawer, the shirts where he usually kept them and so on. Fuck, she was too goddamned sweet—maybe he should’ve gotten her more ice cream. Six pints was a lot, but, shit, the store had more flavors than that, and she deserved it all. His Bobby and her sweet tooth.

Tora sighed, quickly stripping the rest of his clothes from his legs and picking up a clean pair of briefs before heading to the bathroom. “Tora!” Poppy squeaked from where she’d been standing at the balcony, her eyes going wide as she looked at his bare ass.

He smirked, “like what ya see, Bobby? Ya know, there’s room for two,” he nodded toward the shower. “I’ll even use the warm water for ya.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes lightly as she gestured toward the large balcony door, the dim haze of dusk beyond the apartment, “no curtains, Tora.” She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him. “Anyone could see in with the lights on.” He laughed once through his nose, thought he knew what she was all worried about as she quickly moved to the front door again, flipping the overhead switch off, the room suddenly dark—the boxes, her body, cast in hard silhouettes, sharp shadows. Their only light now from the setting sun as it sunk beneath their windows—harsh blood-orange blades slanting across the room, a couple refracting off the large mirror behind her. A bright sliver cut across her body where she stood, arms across her chest and facing him. Dust swirling between them as the fan pushed the air around slow. Tora took a step closer to her, his shadow falling across her figure. 

“Bobby, ya really think I give a shit?” He watched as she frowned slightly—the fuck? Was she actually upset? Tora turned from the bathroom, padding over to her. “Hey,” he put a finger under her chin, lifting her face so he could meet her gaze, a ray of light reflecting in her eye from over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, outside of ya, outside of this,” he waved his finger back and forth between their bodies, “I don’t give a _single_ _shit_ what other people—especially not complete fuckin’ strangers—think,” he said softly, holding her eyes with his own as her brows pulled together in question. “Spent a long fuckin’ time bein’ unhappy as shit,” he wrapped his arms around her waist as she brought her hands to his chest, opening her fingers wide on his skin, one palm over his heart. Could feel her press against his pulse. “Ya know that better than anyone,” he watched as her jaw clenched, her eyes glassing over as her fingers tightened against his heartbeat. “Almost lost it all, no way I’m ever takin’ this,” he nodded at her, the space between them, _home_ , “any of this for granted.” He smiled softly at her, ducking his head down until his nose skimmed hers, breathing, “so _fuck_ ‘em. Let ‘em see how fuckin’ happy I am with ya. Don’t gotta hide anymore, Bobby—still gettin’ used to it, but…” he trailed off.

He'd talked about this in his last therapy session. Was still strange to talk to someone about it all—someone who wasn’t Bobby, someone he could tell about even the darkest memories. And beyond therapy, he’d talked to Bobby about this, too. She knew. She knew what it meant to him to be here in this apartment living together, out in the open. _Cohabitating_ , the doc had called it. Didn’t really give a shit what the name was. Just knew he loved wakin’ up every day curled around Bobby, comin’ home to the fuckin’ plants—the smell of her all around, fallin’ asleep beside her at night—her knee between his legs, foot tucked around his calf. Arms tight around each other, loosening with sleep in the safety of their new life together. He swallowed, breathing soft against her face as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his on a sigh. “I love ya, Bobby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. She sighed, her exhale tickling the skin along the base of his neck where sweat had pooled along his collarbone. A moment later, she nodded against him, and he stood back up. “Gonna go shower, then ya wanna eat? Think Fred left ya a message,” he smiled at her, nodding toward the takeout bag.

She smiled back softly, nodding again. “I’ll get it ready,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest just beside her hand before stepping back toward the kitchen. He watched as she turned from him, walking back across the darkening room, his eyes dropping to her shorts, the little plants on them that creased as she moved—looked almost like they were waving their leaves at him. _Plant daddy, pfft._ He ran his hand through his hair—damp, either from sweat or from the shower earlier, maybe both—before padding to the bathroom.

Didn’t bother turning on the light. Liked to take showers in the dark for the most part, had startled Poppy the first time she’d walked in on him alone in the tub. He’d only ever kept the light on when he needed to—when he needed to see the blood, to make sure he’d gotten it all. Was almost a relief now, to keep the light off all the time except when Bobby wanted to join him—didn’t want her slipping and falling. Like the light was a good thing now. He pulled the curtain closed behind him, turning the water on cold and standing with his back to the spray, breathing deep as he rolled his neck. He listened to the sound of the water hitting his skin, larger droplets falling off his body and splashing like rain against the porcelain. Could feel the hot sweat being pushed in sheets off his body until his skin was cold to the touch, his muscles soothed, back only a dull ache pulsing along his spine. He reached for the soap, working a lather over his chest, down his torso quickly, focusing most of his attention on his balls, making sure he swiped in the dip between his legs, up around his pelvis where he’d sweat through his briefs in the short trip. 

He grabbed his towel off the rod where she’d hung it for him, though it was still damp from the first shower, toweling off and hanging it back up to dry—hopefully it’d fuckin’ dry. It was so goddamn humid, though. They should make a list, he thought. A list of all the new shit they’d need in order to make the apartment comfortable for the remainder of the summer. Winter would bring its own set of surprises, he was sure, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it, as Bobby liked to say.

Tora pulled on the clean briefs, sighing at the feeling of the dry cloth—what a fuckin’ relief—as he padded out of the bathroom, shaking out his hair with his hands on his scalp as he collapsed onto one of the pillows at their table that she’d set up already. “Shit, sweetheart,” he murmured reaching over to grab the edge of her pillow around the corner of the table and slide her over to him, “ya leave anythin’ for me to unpack?” He pulled her up against him, spreading his legs wide so that there was no gap between their pillows on the floor, one of his hands encouraging her to scoot back into his chest.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, not leaning against him yet, “how’s your back?” Tora took a breath, holding it in his lungs the way he used to when he smoked before letting it out harshly as she eyed him, the worry written plain across her face. “Scale of one to ten.”

“Somewhere right around _I’ve had worse_ and _this smells real fuckin’ good_ ,” he said, reaching around her to the open takeout boxes on the table and grabbing a pair of chopsticks from the plates she’d laid out.

“Tora.”

He glanced over at her, the hand with the chopsticks falling to the table. Couldn’t lie to her. “Eight.” He watched as her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. Before she could say anything, though, he cut her off, his other arm wrapping around her torso, hand reaching up to cup her jaw as his thumb stroked her cheek. “The shower helped and after we eat m’gonna lie down. But I’m fuckin’ starvin’ and this shit smells good, so let’s eat. Protein’ll help, too. Promise I’ll lie down,” he nodded at her, trying to reassure her. The pain was fuckin’ bad, but he wasn’t wrong—he’d survived worse and she knew it. “Can I hold ya?”

He watched as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth before smiling softly up at him, allowing him to pull her back against his chest. She was warm, could feel the heat radiating through the thin t-shirt still tied up just under her chest, her little shorts. “Let me give you a massage after. I found the tiger balm,” she murmured, dishing out the meat and veggies onto the plates as his palm settled on the inside of her thigh, his other hand pinching a piece of meat with the chopsticks.

Tora leaned his head against her shoulder, nodding as he chewed and swallowed before pressing a kiss to the damp skin at the back of her neck. He smiled at the little curls of hair along the nape of her hairline, springy with sweat despite the breeze as the fan pushed air from the balcony to where they sat on the floor. As Tora chewed on another piece of meat, he reached for the takeout boxes, searching for Fred’s handwriting—the old man always left them notes, more so for Poppy now since Tora was usually the one picking up the food, but he still enjoyed reading the scribbled messages. He frowned, unable to find anything. “Freh nah yeavah no?” he asked around a mouthful of broccoli. He frowned at the top of one of the boxes that’d been torn right off—weird. She usually liked to open the boxes up wide when they were sharing, unfolding them so that all the food piled in the middle of the flattened cardboard lined with creases from the folds.

“ _Tch,_ Tora,” she clicked her teeth, and he laughed through his nose. She was always tellin’ him to swallow first, worried he’d choke. Tora chewed the rest of his bite, making sure to swallow loudly as she shook her head on a laugh. “Now what was that?”

“Fred not leave a note?” he picked up another piece of meat, tucking it along his tongue as he stroked her inner thigh with his thumb. In the time it took him to chew and swallow, she still hadn’t answered. “Sweetheart?”

“Mmm?” she asked as though she hadn’t heard him.

“I asked if Fred left a note,” he frowned slightly, reaching to turn over the boxes again, “said he had. I checked his meds, seemed like he was takin’ ‘em right,” he shook his head, knew the old man’s condition was worsening, his memory slipping away from him. “But maybe—”

“Oh, yeah. It was nothing,” she said, reaching for a piece of meat off his plate.

“Oi, Bobby,” he laughed, blocking her with his chopsticks, “ya want my meat, s’gonna cost ya, sweetheart,” he smirked as she huffed at the innuendo. He knew she was deflecting. Didn’t know why, but she’d tell him when she was ready. Hoped it wasn’t serious, though he couldn’t imagine what Fred might write that’d have her worried.

“I’m listening,” she said, could hear the smile on her voice as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, his teeth tugging at the neckline of the shirt until the material gapped away from the front of her body, could see the swell of her tits, her nipples soft with heat, little beads of sweat leading down the center of her chest. Wanted her in his mouth, fuck the food. His hand tightened on the soft flesh of her leg, thumb stroking up along the edge of her shorts between her thighs.

“Wanna taste ya tonight, Bobby,” he murmured as his teeth released her shirt, pressing kisses along the skin leading up along the side of her neck. She leaned her head back against his shoulder on a sigh, could feel her shaking her head slow even as she shifted her hips slightly, her legs widening just enough for his hand to slip further up to her center. His thumb dipped under her shorts and he groaned as he felt her curls—she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the thin material. “Sweet fuck,” his voice came out a low whine, fuckin’ desperate for her. “Please, sweetheart,” he didn’t beg often, but fuck, he wanted to make her come with his tongue on their first night here, their first night in their first home together. Wanted to feel her moans from her throat to her core. Wanted to be inside her, too, joined together again. In their bed this time, though—not a quick fuck against the counter. Make love, hug her close to him, all that ooey-gooey shit. But that could wait. His thumb brushed along her folds as she drew one knee up, a whimper escaping her throat at his touch.

Tora smirked against her neck, kissing her again as he stroked her center, dipping between her lips and slicking himself in her before circling up to her clit. He let the chopsticks fall from his fingers onto the plate, bringing his left hand up to cup her tit through her shirt, rolling her nipple as it tightened under his touch. She spread her legs further, her right foot drawing up under his knee on the side of the pillow. She was keeping her mouth closed, he noticed, attempting to keep quiet, _pfft._ Still didn’t get why she cared, but he was just glad she was seemingly down to fool around again. And he knew, he thought with a smirk against her skin, he knew he could get her to let loose, be as loud as he knew she could. Just as he shifted his hand to wiggle a finger up under her shorts, she moved against him, scooching away from his lap, breathing heavy. He could see her sweat glistening in the low light of the evening through the open windows and balcony, trailed his eyes down her neck, watching where the sweat kissed the neckline of her shirt, a damp patch between her shoulder blades where she’d pressed against his bare chest.

“Bobby,” he murmured, his voice low, barely audible over the faint whir of the old fan as it turned lazily, the leaves of the plants on the balcony brushing together.

She turned to face him, leaning back, one palm pressing into the pillow between his thighs, not even a handspan from where his cock had stiffened in his briefs. He licked his lips, eyes roaming her face, trying to read her before glancing down at her chest, heaving under the thin shirt, her nipples hard—knew she wanted him just as bad as he wanted her, so why the fuck was she playin’ hard to get? Normally he liked it, but shit, it’d been a long fuckin’ day and he just wanted to spend the night tangled up with her, gettin’ sweaty with her in the late summer heat of the small apartment. Slowly, he brought his hand to his open mouth, holding her gaze in the darkening room as he swiped his tongue along his thumb, chasing the taste of her. She watched him, could see her throat moving as she swallowed. He waited for her to make a move—she’d scooted out away from the center of his legs, the insistent press of his cock against her ass, her lower back. He brought his right arm down, pulling his foot up beside the pillow to rest his elbow on his knee as she took another couple of breaths, trying to calm herself down. He shook his head slightly, didn’t want her to calm down. Didn’t want that at all.

Just as he opened his mouth to tell her so, she spoke. “I need your help getting the mattress down from the wall,” she said, and Tora felt his breath leave his lungs in a rush, his shoulders deflating from where they’d tensed up around his ears in anticipation of her next move, knew from her tone she wasn’t thinkin’ about sex. She’d been talkin’ about the fuckin’ tiger balm since he’d finished moving the last box earlier that afternoon and knew it probably hadn’t left her mind at all. Even his fuckin’ fingers couldn’t distract her when she knew he was in pain. Shit, he thought, shouldn’t have told her he was at an eight. Why’d he have to be so goddamned fuckin’ honest with her? _Ya fuckin’ cockblockin’ idiot_. “I have the sheets all set out and ready,” she said, drawing a breath as she glanced down at the food on the table, “I can make the bed, just going to put the rest of the food away,” she murmured. “And then we’re going to take care of your back,” she said, looking up at him again, her mouth set.

She stood then as he sighed, holding her hands out to him as he pushed himself up off the floor, waving her away. “Nah, Bobby, how many times we gotta go over this,” he grunted as he stood, his back spasming at the movement. “Motherfuck—” he froze, jaw clenching as he waited for it to pass. Fuck, he really needed to lie the fuck down.

When he blinked open, Poppy was standing in front of him, face pinched, her eyes wide, brows drawn up in concern, both of her hands hovering over his arms, like she was afraid of hurting him if she made contact. He met her gaze, swallowing hard at the memory of her in a similar state not that long ago at all, the fear palpable when she’d realized he was a lot more injured than he’d let on, a lot closer to the edge than he’d even admitted to himself. But that hadn’t been an eight—this was different. Manageable. They were safe, and it was an old injury, flaring from the exertion of moving and from the dead heat of the summer trapped in their third floor, west-facing unit. He tilted his head slightly as he let out a breath, “it’s not as—”

“Seems more like a nine than an eight,” she cut him off as she shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad, Tora? You know what the doctor said,” she murmured, slipping her hand into his. He sighed, had been tryin’ not to think of that latest prognosis, fuck. The recovery time from the surgery alone was out of the fuckin’ question. He let her lead him wordlessly to the bedroom, eyes falling on the mattress where he’d leaned it against the wall behind some boxes. There was a pile of sheets on top of one of them, which she moved to stand beside before bending down to slide the box across the floor away from the bed.

“Bobby, let me—” she shot him a look over her shoulder as he attempted to step toward her. “Shit, I can move a goddamned box,” he huffed, striding to the mattress and making to lower it to the ground.

“Tora!” She was beside him in a second, her hand on his ribs as she grabbed the top of the mattress, preventing him from moving it. “What did I _just_ say?” Fuck, he wasn’t even setting up the fuckin’ bedframe, was literally just tryin’ to put the goddamn mattress on the floor. He could fuckin’ handle that, shit. He clenched his jaw, lifting his arm from the bed and turning to look at her, ready to tell her he didn’t need her fuckin’ coddlin’ him, but when his eyes found her face in the darkness of the bedroom, he felt the frustration slip away from him. The worry was gone—she was pissed, her eyes bright with anger. Tora knew, he really did, that it shouldn’t turn him on so much when she got all fiery with him, but shit, he just couldn’t help it. Loved her fuckin’ passion. She wasn’t afraid of him, wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind and fuckin’ loved it. She was the only person who did—who was brave enough no matter the circumstances to go toe to toe with the Tiger of Ares Street, but shit—he was her tiger.

“I said I needed _help_ , not that you should do it _for_ me,” she shook her head. “Especially not that you should do it on your fudging own.” Tora bit his lip, trying desperately to swallow the smile that threatened to split his face open. Shit, why the fuck was she so goddamned adorable? Her frown deepened as she watched him struggle to maintain a blank expression—it used to be so much easier, but now she could read him in a heartbeat. “I’m not kidding,” she said, tilting her head and nailing him with her Bobby-means-business face.

He sighed, nodding. “‘Kay, sweetheart. Ya lead, I follow,” he murmured, gesturing toward the mattress and placing his hand back down on top as she did the same. She counted to three and they lowered it to the ground—easy enough. Just earlier that afternoon, Tora’d carried it up the stairs on his own, but he knew she was right. The bending motion had sent another shock down his spine, nearly sending him to his knees.

“Here, you do the pillows,” she said, handing him the pillowcases and gesturing toward the stack of three pillows she’d piled on another box. Her voice was quieter now, he noted, as he moved to stuff the pillows into the cotton sheaths—knew she was probably tearin’ herself up inside at raising her voice at him, but she’d had good reason to be angry with him, he knew. It’d only been a week since the last bad flare-up when the doc had told them about the potential risks of his back injury if he didn’t start up physical therapy. _Chronic_ —hadn’t realized there were different specifications for pain or that some never got better. He’d always known the blow Vincent had landed on him when he was still a teen had done quite a bit of damage, but shit—the rest of his life? And Bobby havin’ to do the heavy liftin’? Nah, no way.

As he finished stuffing the last pillowcase, he glanced back up at her, watching the way her ass shook in the air as she pulled the corner of the fitted sheet down around the edge furthest from him, her thighs jiggling with each movement, tantalizing, especially knowin’ that if he were to slip the little shorts down to her knees, there’d be no clothes in the way of being able to taste her again. He shook his head to himself, his cock stiff in his briefs, could feel without having to look down that the cotton was sticking to the head around his precum. She stood back up, picking up the other sheet and flapping it over the bed as Tora grabbed up the pillows, tossing them along the wall where the headboard would normally go if he’d managed to set it up before his back had fucked him over.

“Bobby,” he said softly, stepping up behind her and touching her waist with his fingertips.

She spun in his arms, her hands circling his wrists as she pulled him away from her torso. He sighed as she nodded back toward the bed. “Lie down. I’m going to put away the food and grab the tiger balm. I couldn’t find the TENS unit, but I’ll look more tomorrow.” She put her hand on his chest, holding his gaze after he’d rolled his eyes lightly, “on your stomach, and don’t move,” she said firmly, giving him the look again.

“Might be a little hard, Bobby,” he murmured, glancing down between them where his cock was reaching out to her eagerly, pressing against the cotton of his briefs. “Ya know what would help, though…” he trailed off, raising his brows slightly and biting his lip.

“ _Tch_ , get in the bed,” she said, making to step around him as he caught her wrist loosely.

“Exactly what I was thinkin’, sweetheart.” His smirk quickly turned into a sigh as she shook her head at him, slipping away as he bit back a groan, his head falling back as he closed his eyes toward the ceiling. She could be real fuckin’ stubborn. Hoped she’d at least let him hold her when they finally went to sleep. Tora bent carefully, pulling off his briefs and sliding down onto the bed, sighing as he relaxed onto his stomach, his arms pulling up to wrap around one of the pillows, pulling it under his chin.

The sheets felt cool, or at least they felt dry which was an even more welcome relief. He let his eyes slip shut as he listened to Bobby’s soft footsteps in the other room, could hear her turn on the water in the bathroom for a moment, the sound of the pipes in the shared wall unfamiliar to him. There was a lot to learn about this new place, but he already felt comfortable here. Trusted Bobby to lock up, tellin’ himself he didn’t have to double check. At least not right now—he was sure he’d wake in the middle of the night, need to touch the locks, jostle the handles just to be sure so he could fall back asleep. Each time he did, he’d slip back under the covers trying not to wake her, but Bobby always knew, even in sleep she’d immediately pull him back to her, her leg hooking around his body possessively. Protectively. He grinned into the pillow, how the fuck had he gotten so lucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao this got to be over 8000 words and I was nowhere near done, so sorry for the abrupt ending, there wasn't a better place to cut it without y'all killing me 😂😂
> 
> Ch. 4: we all know what's coming.


	4. Balm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora and Poppy spend their first night together in their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow chicka wow wow (NSFW NSFW NSFW) but also some fluff cause I can’t resist with these two, ha! 
> 
> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Chapter 4**

Tora breathed against the warm cotton covering the pillow that he’d tucked between his arms under his head. He listened as Poppy padded into the bedroom, her bare feet sticking to the wood floor slightly as she shifted a box across the room. A moment later, he heard her fumbling something against the wall. The fan kicked on then, the whir of it humming in the silence of the room, could feel the air being pushed over his back where the sweat had pooled above his ass before the fan swept back the other way slowly. Tora felt the bed dip down a moment later as Bobby knelt beside his hips, could hear the little jar of tiger balm in her hands as she unscrewed the lid, the menthol suddenly sharp in the air. “Tell me where,” she murmured, her voice so quiet against the old motor of the fan as her fingers brushed over the spot on his back where they both knew the scar tissue lay buried deep.

He nodded against the pillow as she moved over a certain spot, and her hand left his back for a moment before returning, fingers spreading the cool balm over the muscle where the peonies dipped down over his shoulder blade, could feel her tracing the edge of one of the flowers before returning to spread the balm more firmly with the heel of her palm. He felt her other hand trail up his spine, avoiding the stick of menthol, fingers spreading along his neck before she ran them through his hair over the back of his head, her nails grazing the sweat along his scalp in a way that raised goosebumps down the length of his body. He groaned into the pillow, shifting his hips slightly as his cock pulsed against the mattress where he’d pinned it up against his hip.

“Feel good?” she murmured as he groaned again. The balm was helping—always did at least a little bit—but it was her hands, her touch over his muscles that really did it for his pain. She wasn’t too gentle with him, knew exactly how firm to be without causing more pain—had been that way from the start, somehow knowing exactly how to touch him to release the tension knotted up in his body. Like she’d always known. A couple minutes passed, the fan pushing the warm air around the room, the scent of his soap mingling with her sweet shampoo, the musk of their sweat. “I’m sorry.” Her voice, a gentle weight in the air around them.

Tora frowned into the pillow before turning his head to the side, peering over his bicep beside his face. She didn’t say sorry nearly as often anymore as she’d used to when they’d first met—she’d grown a lot more confident. Wasn’t afraid to take up space—of course, there were still times when she’d catch herself, immediately insisting how _not_ sorry she was when he’d grin at her, so he knew something must be weighing on her to be apologizing now. Didn’t know what, though. He met her eyes, and she bit her lip before looking back down at her hands, continuing to work the muscles along his shoulders. He waited, could see, even in the darkness of the room, that she was thinking something over.

“I didn’t mean to get upset with you,” she said, fingers brushing strands of his hair, still damp from the shower, where it clung to his jaw. “I just worry about you.” She shook her head, running her hand along the top of his head as he sighed into her touch, “you push yourself. Into the ground sometimes.” His eyes fluttered shut as the hand on his shoulder moved to the center of his back, her thumb tracing the kanji inked between his shoulder blades. “I know you’re strong,” she murmured, “but you were clearly in a lot more pain than you were letting on. The way you seized—” she broke off and Tora opened his eyes. She was staring at his back, her fingers trailing over the scars.

“Hey,” he rolled over onto his side, extending his arms, hands wrapping around her elbows as he guided her into the space beside him on the bed. “Hey,” he said, softer. She curled herself against his torso, her head tucking against his bicep, his chest, as he pulled her tight, arms around her back, one hand resting along her hair. “M’not goin’ anywhere, Bobby,” he murmured, feeling her soft exhales on the sweat along his chest. “Gonna start physical therapy, ‘member? As much as ya don’t like me bein’ injured, I like it even less,” he said, swallowing as he felt her hands grip below the patch of tiger balm she’d spread over his back like she was worried he might drift away. 

“And ya don’t have anythin’ to apologize for, sweetheart,” he pulled away from her slightly to look at her as she raised her head out from his chest. “I got ya, and ya got me, right?” She nodded. “Right,” he said. “If the roles were reversed, ya bet ya cute ass I’d be pissed if ya tried to move a goddamn mattress on ya own,” he smiled softly at her, could see her own smile trying to poke through. “Like I said, Bobby,” he murmured, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead, “m’not goin’ anywhere.” He stroked his fingers along her back, breathing deeply for a moment. “At least not for a year,” he added, smirking. She pulled her head up quickly, nearly smacking him in the chin as he continued, “can’t break the lease, ya know.”

“Tora,” she huffed, but it was half-hearted, the smile finally cracking across her face as she rolled her eyes. He laughed, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him as she tried to push herself up. “Tora, your back,” she gasped, her hands catching the pillow on either side of his head as she held herself up off him. His eyes dragged down from her face, her throat as she panted, could see straight down her shirt, her tits swingin’ low, as she tried to catch her breath over him. Tora smirked, one hand slipping around the back of her thigh and pulling her leg up and over his hip as the other palmed her ass, his fingers slipping under the soft fabric of her shorts, squeezing her as she gasped.

“Back feels good as new, could use a little rubbin’ somewhere else, though,” he murmured, pushing his hips up against her slowly so she could feel the press of his cock along her ass as she settled herself around his waist, her hands spreading along his pecs as she stared down at him in surprise like she wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up straddling him. As he thrust up against her again, she shuddered an exhale, her eyes fluttering closed. He slowly grinned, his breathing coming faster as he watched her swallow. Running his hands up and down the backs of her thighs, he murmured, “ya look a little hot, sweetheart,” licking his lips as she rolled her hips against him subtly, almost subconsciously.

Her body responding to his even as she repeated herself on a gasp, “your back.”

“M-hmm,” he nodded, his hands running up along the curves of her hips, thumbs brushing down in a V toward her center where her legs came together. “Back and better than ever thanks to ya, Bobby,” he smirked as she panted a laugh.

“So chee- _sy_ ,” she gasped as he moved a hand under her shorts through the loose gap around one of her legs, his fingers brushing along her folds, so fuckin’ wet already.

“What can I say,” he murmured, smirking at the way she was trying not to grind down against his fingers. “Ya got the magic touch, sweetheart,” he purred his name for her, the one he knew she loved as he slicked his fingers against her, his other hand deftly undoing the knot in the t-shirt before slipping his hand up under the material, thumbing at her nipple as she moaned. She inhaled sharply a moment later, eyes flying open as she clapped a hand over her mouth, the other gripping his chest tightly, her nails digging into the koi.

He bit back a groan, slipping a finger inside her as she caught another moan in her throat, hand still pressed over her mouth. Fuck, he wanted to hear her, hear his name on her tongue over and over the way she got more and more breathless. “Shit, Bobby, please,” he whispered, his thumb circling her clit as he slipped another finger inside of her, “wanna hear ya, sweetheart.”

She swallowed, shaking her head as she panted through her nose, her nipple tight under his hand, could feel the goosebumps all along her skin, the sweat blossoming like her blush down her neck, up her face as her eyes closed. He slipped a third finger inside of her, his head falling back against the pillow at the feel of her around him, how fuckin’ tight she was, thrusting his hips against the back of her ass two times, unable to stop himself, her fingers trailing down from his chest until she was gripping his wrist tight against her core, a whine in her throat as she ground down against him, her hips circling against his hand as her thighs began to shake. “Oh, Tor—” she cut herself off, swallowing the rest of his name, her jaw clenching as she panted through her nose.

A moment later, he felt her walls clench around him, hot and wet like the rest of her skin slick with sweat, squeezing his fingers as he stilled his thumb, holding his hand steady so that she could control the movements, her own comedown, as she rocked against him. He watched her shudder, her chest heaving under his hand as the flush deepened on her throat, her skin gleaming with sweat, her long hair knotted up in the bun that was falling loose at the back—fuckin’ beautiful.

She opened her mouth, breathing deep as she looked down at him. He moved his hands to her waist, fingers catching in the hem of the shirt before she crossed her arms, helping him pull it off and over her head. He stared at her for a moment as she smiled down soft at him, the flush coloring most of her torso. “Goddamn, Bobby,” he murmured, pulling her down on top of him, “fuckin’ goddess.”

He felt her laughing against him, the press of her tits so fuckin’ hot against his chest, the sweat between them slipping as he angled her chin up, his mouth finding hers in the near darkness of the room, lit only by the night sky outside the window. As their tongues slipped together, he made to roll her over, but stopped as she put her hand on his shoulder. He let her press him back against the mattress. She pulled up, kneeling and shimmying out of her shorts as his eyes dragged down the length of her body, sucking in a breath as his gaze landed on the thatch of curls between her legs. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, making to sit up all the way, but she stopped him again with a hand to his shoulder.

“Bobby, told ya. I wanna taste ya,” he murmured, his free hand wrapping around her back and pulling her chest to his mouth where he pressed sloppy kisses along one of her tits before swirling the flat of his tongue around her nipple. He blew gently on it for a moment before sucking softly at her again, could feel the moan building in her chest as her fingers gripped his traps.

“Shouldn’t…move your back,” she murmured, her fingers tightening on him before she was pressing at his deltoid with the heel of her palm again. He huffed through his nose, falling back onto the bed.

“Don’t gotta move my back, Bobby,” he said, tugging at her hips and inclining his head. “Come here.”

He watched as her eyes narrowed, the corners of her lips pulling up. She moved one knee then the other, slowly working her way up his torso, purposely pressing her core against him as she moved. Leaving little wet kisses with her inner lips along his skin as she nestled herself just beneath his chin.

“Shit, Bobby,” he practically whined, his eyes glued to the center of her legs, watching her, smelling her. Fuck, she smelled amazin’, knew she’d taste it, too. “Bobby, I swear if ya don’t get up here right the fuck now, I’m—”

“What do you say.”

His eyes flashed, opening wide as he looked up at her little fuckin’ smirk. He let out one low laugh, “careful, Bobby…” his voice trailing off. She knew the rest, he didn’t have to say it anymore. She dipped a hand down to his mouth, her thumb pulling on his lower lip so she could see his teeth as he smiled dangerously.

“Mhmm,” she smiled. Waiting. _Fuckin’ A_.

He squeezed her ass, rubbing his hands up and down the backs of her thighs. He was so fuckin’ hard—loved it when she did this shit. “Already said it,” he murmured, his tongue running along his molars, shifting his jaw as she ran her thumb along his bottom teeth.

She smirked as he pulled her thumb into his mouth, sucking at the soft skin along her pad. “I like hearing it,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his. Tora slipped his right hand back around her ass, his thumb dipping between her legs. She jumped forward in surprise, her hand slipping from his mouth out to cup his jaw, her core moving slightly closer to his face, as he teased her back entrance with his knuckle. “That’s no fair,” she whispered.

Tora squeezed her ass again before letting the smirk fall from his face, as he licked his lips. He held her gaze as he lowered his voice, murmuring, “please.”

She bit her lip around a smile, slowly lifting up above his chin. Tora moved his hands to grip her hips, guiding her down onto his mouth, running his tongue through her folds. He moaned against her, the taste of her coating his lips, his chin, the tip of his nose as she rocked her hips against his face, panting against the sound of the fan. Using the slow movement of his hands on her hips, he helped her build a steady rhythm as he stroked her clit, one of her palms falling to his hair, the other on his arm where he held her. She moved her hand down his forearm, his wrist, until her fingers locked with his, her palm cupping the other side of her hip as she held onto him. Tora tightened his fingers on hers—didn’t know why and wasn’t sure exactly when it’d started, but sometimes she held his hand during sex—all he knew was he liked it. Liked holding her hand all the time. Another connection with her. He could hear her whimpering as she kept her mouth closed and he groaned in frustration against her—just wanted to fuckin’ hear her, missed hearin’ her, his name in her mouth, her lips open in ecstasy. Never should’ve said anything about how loud she was—knew she was self-conscious, fuck. _Ya stupid dumbass_. He lifted his head out from between her legs, panting up at her, “Bobby, I wanna hear ya, please, sweetheart.”

“M-mmm,” she shook her head, as he let his fall back against the pillow and away from her core, his hands guiding her back down his body. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling them over as she gasped, “Tora, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

He shook his head, bringing a hand up to her forehead and pushing the loose hair away from her eyes where it stuck to her skin beaded with sweat. The balm had dulled the ache in his back and her hands had loosened his muscles, he knew he’d be fine for the night so long as he didn’t do anything stupid like haulin’ a mattress up three flights of stairs. “M’fine, Bobby,” he murmured, “pinky promise,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her when she pressed her lips together, but at those words she visibly relaxed, her shoulders releasing on a sigh as she brought her hand up to his cheek.

“So, what’s wrong then?” she asked softly, her eyes scanning his face.

He swallowed. “Bobby, I love hearin’ ya. All the sounds ya make.” She looked down, breaking eye contact as he watched the blush deepen on her cheeks in the near darkness of the room. “Sweetheart,” he shifted an arm out from under her, leaning on his elbow and holding his pinky finger up, “I fuckin’ mean it.” She looked up at his finger, sucking her lips between her teeth before reaching up and wrapping her own little one around his. He watched her as she gazed at their join hands before she was opening her palm against his, working her fingers between his knuckles until their hands made one fist. “I’m sorry I made ya self-conscious, sweetheart.”

She frowned slightly, looking back up at him. “I don’t mind _you_ hearing me,” she said, “I’d just rather not be…” she took a breath searching for her words, “ _those_ neighbors, you know?”

He felt his eyebrows draw up toward his hairline, a bead of sweat running down his temple as he pulled their joined hands up to his face, turning his wrist so that he could kiss the back of hers. He sighed, “ya know how I feel, Bobby.” He held her gaze hoping she remembered what he’d told her just a few hours ago, that she’d believed him. “Meant every word, sweetheart. I love ya and I don’t care who knows it or what the fuck they think.”

He smiled softly at her before sighing. Shit, maybe he could try again in the morning—it’d been a long fuckin’ day and for some reason, the back of his throat was burnin’ like he might fuckin’ cry. As he opened his mouth to suggest that they get some sleep, she pressed up into him, her free hand drawing up to cup the back of his neck as she pulled him down against her. Tora tried not to collapse on top of her as she pressed her lips to his, her legs wrapping around his waist as she moaned into his mouth.

She pulled away from his lips a couple moments later, leaning her forehead against his. “I love you.”

He smiled, nodding against her, shifting his hips until he felt his cock nudging against her entrance, slicking himself between her folds a couple of times before pressing into her. Tora breathed heavy through his nose as he kissed her, his hips stilling for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her again before beginning to rock against her. He listened to the sounds of their breathing, heavy in the air, the fan moving slow, the rustle of trees outside the window. And the sound of their bodies moving together, slow and tender, slick with sweat in the dark heat of the room. She moaned softly again, his mouth swallowing the sound before he kissed his way down her jaw, her throat, resting his head against her shoulder as he pushed into her again. He slipped his free hand down between their bodies, resting two of his knuckles on either side of her clit. Her breath caught in her throat as she bit off a moan, her mouth quickly moving to his shoulder where he felt her teeth against him. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured, smiling against her neck. Didn’t care if she bit him, fuck, he liked it whenever she had in the past. Anything to hear her moan. “Wanna hear ya. Just for me, sweetheart.” 

As if on command, she moaned again her teeth pressing into his skin, her hips moving in tandem with his, rubbing up against his knuckles with each press. She panted open-mouthed against his shoulder just before he felt her begin to squeeze around his cock. As he groaned at the feel of her wet folds clamping around him, she moaned his name, quickly pressing her lips back around his deltoid as her teeth scraped his skin. He felt her shudder, the sounds from her mouth growing loud against his skin, his nerves tingling where she dug her teeth into him, her tongue hot against on his shoulder as her walls began to spasm, her thighs squeezing around his waist. Tora pushed a couple more times inside her before he pulled out quickly, keeping his knuckles pressed up against her clit as he pulled his fingers from hers to grip the base of his cock, coming on her stomach, his brows pulling together on his release, eyes squeezing shut tight as he gasped her name.

“Sweet fuck, Bobby,” Tora panted, his jaw pushing forward as he sat back on his heels, head falling back, his fingers loosening on his cock. He reached behind him, grabbing blindly for the shirt she’d been wearing and leaning forward to wipe his cum from her belly, bending down to kiss her chest before he wiped himself off. Could hear her humming softly at his touch before she held her hands out to him, opening and closing her fists as she smiled down at him. Tora threw the shirt to the floor, crawling back up over her body and lowering his weight down onto her most of the way, the same way he did when he pretended like he was asleep on weekends when she tried to get up from bed too early. He made snoring sounds, slowing his breathing as she laughed under him before she poked him in the ribs. Tora rolled to the side, pulling her halfway on top of him, smiling with his eyes closed as she tucked her leg between his, her arm around his torso. “Love ya, Bob,” he slurred, sleep already tugging at him, so fuckin’ relaxed with her. They were safe here, their home. Wrapped up in this woman he loved.

He felt her press a kiss to his chest. “Was I too loud,” she murmured against his skin, one finger trailing over the peonies on his chest.

“No such thing, Bobby,” he breathed, shaking his head on a yawn. “Perfect.”

“Tora,” she insisted, her finger stilling on him. He brought his hand up, grabbing blindly for her wrist and pulling her palm up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her hand before moaning overly loud against her. She clamped her hand over his mouth hard as she gasped his name.

Tora laughed softly, easily lifting her from his face even half-asleep. “See, now ya not the loudest one, Bobby,” he grinned, eyes still closed as she huffed against him.

“Tora, I’m serious,” she said, could hear the frown in her voice

He sighed, turning to look at her. “Once we unpack it’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he smiled softly at her. “S’only so loud right now cause it’s all echoey in here. Ya had so many rugs at ya old place, sound didn’t carry s’much.” He yawned again, trying to stifle it so he wouldn’t be gaping in her face, but failing, “sorr—” he murmured, his tongue thick with sleep.

“But I got rid of all the rugs, most of them weren’t even mine,” she worried.

“Mmm,” he nodded, knew this. He’d been the one to carry them to the dumpster at her old building, Ronzo fuckin’ watchin’ him all nosy from the security booth. “S’get some new rugs ‘en,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her, “night, Bobby.” He let his eyes flutter shut, smiling at the feeling of her wrapped around him just as she spoke again.

“Can we go tomorrow?”

“ _Pfft_ , can’t get enough lovin’, huh, sweetheart?” She clicked her teeth at him, murmuring his name. “Sure, Bob. Ll’go tomorrow,” he slurred, could already feel his breathing evening out, ready for sleep to take him under.

“Ikea?”

He frowned, laughing softly. Shit, she was fuckin’ chatty right now. Normally, he’d stay up and talk, but fuck, it’d been a long goddamned day and he needed to rest. “Ya know, two best cures for the body, Bobby,” he murmured. “Sex and sleep.” She huffed a laugh against his skin, her exhale pushing a couple beads of sweat down his side. “S’go two for two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She back-tracked real quick on that no sex thing, huh?
> 
> Chapter 5: Ikea!!!!!


	5. A fuckin' virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiger and his hamster embark on a trip to IKEA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like, a hint of NSFW. Just a hint. But mostly a shitload of snark.
> 
> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Chapter 5**

Tora blinked awake, his tongue dry from the sweep of the fan across the bedroom, mouth open against the cotton pillowcase under his cheek. He rolled his head, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes as his hand closed on the empty sheets beside him. His hand patted around for a moment, arm still heavy with sleep before realizing she wasn’t there. He sat up quickly, one palm rubbing at his eyes just as his back spasmed, “fuck,” he groaned, collapsing back onto the mattress for a moment as he tried not to breathe, willing the muscle to stop tensing—the nerves along his spine firing down to his toes.

He closed his eyes, scrunching his face, his fingers fisting in the sheet beside him, still balled up from where Bobby had left it. The old injury was always worse just after sleep—knew he’d need to stretch, take a cold shower. As the pain subsided, he turned his attention to the sounds coming from the open door that led out into the main room. Could hear her voice, not so clear over the sound of the fan. Who the fuck was she talkin’ to, though, and so early on a Sunday morning? Tora carefully rolled himself to the side, pressing up onto his elbow and sitting up slowly, taking a deep breath as he prepared to stand. Fuck, felt like a goddamn old man, like fuckin’ Fred. Except even Fred didn’t have issues movin’ around this much. He considered for a moment calling out to Bobby, knew she’d be more than eager to try helpin’ him up off the goddamn floor, but decided against it. He’d probably just pull her down on top of him, and—as fun as that could turn out to be—he wasn’t lookin’ to make the pain any worse than it already was. He’d been adamant against taking any meds. Knew how fuckin’ easy it was to get hooked. It’d been hard enough to kick smoking and, as it was, he still found his fingers itching from the habit a couple times a week.

Tora took a deep breath again, turning himself over so that his fists pushed down into the mattress, propelling himself back and up, rocking onto his heels as he stood. Bracing himself against the wall, he looked around for a pair of briefs, anything to cover his cock, stiff from the morning, in case there was someone out there with her—wasn’t sure she’d appreciate him givin’ ‘em an eyeful. When he couldn’t find anything, he sighed, opting just to cup himself as best he could as he moved to the open door—had a feeling she was on the phone anyway.

“Uuugh,” she groaned from where she was squatting in front of an open moving box beside the open balcony door facing away from him. Tora watched as she threw her head back to the ceiling. Despite her clear frustration, he couldn’t help but smile at the two buns she’d done up on either side of her head—loved it when she did her hair like that, too fuckin’ cute. “I wouldn’t have _told_ you if I knew you weren’t going to shut up about it,” Bobby sighed as she hunched, reaching into the box briefly, pulling something out. “I just wanted to know if it was a _thing_. Like if you two had spoken about it.” Tora leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, as he peered around the room. She was definitely alone, _must be on the phone then_ , he thought as she stood up. Sure enough, a moment later she reached out to pick up the device which she’d propped against another box. He watched as she walked into the kitchen, could hear a muffled voice on the other end as he made his way into the main room, following her, needed to get some water. Knew he was dehydrated, and that sure as shit wasn’t helping with the pain. The air was stagnant in the room, except for the slight breeze from the open windows and door. Shit, they should really pick up another couple of fans or somethin’, he thought, or the nights would be fuckin’ unbearable.

“Jeez, calm down, it’s not—” Poppy broke off mid-sentence, huffing. “I called you to get your take on the mood board since you love interior design. We’re going to Ikea today and I could really use your input.”

Tora paused, sighing and hanging his head as he waited, knowing who was gonna be on the other end of the fuckin’ line. Sure enough, he could hear his brother’s voice a moment later, “mmm, yes. I hear you, I love it, but why _Ikea_. Let me take you two—”

“Quincey.” Her voice was sharp, had gotten a lot more comfortable with the blonde man in the last year that she’d been working with him. And being someone who’d always been outside the clan, she had a way of being able to rein him in like almost nobody else could. Tora smiled as he made his way silently to stand behind her, stepping up to her carefully where she stood at the sink rinsing out a mug she must’ve just gotten from the box. Could see the sweat at the nape of her neck, the little baby hairs curling with heat. In one motion, Tora pressed up against her, pinning her to the counter as he brought his hands down on either side of her.

She gasped, her fingers fumbling the phone as it clattered to the countertop, the mug slipping from her hand and tumbling back into the sink. As she was about to speak, Tora quickly brought a palm up to her mouth, shaking his head against her shoulder where he nosed along her bare skin, sucking softly

“Poppy? What _was_ that?” his brother’s voice called out on speakerphone as Tora lifted his head, turning to meet her gaze, his cock twitching against her lower back when she widened her eyes at him, her teeth nipping at the length of his middle finger. He smirked. “Sounded like you took a fall or something, are you okay, honey?”

“Tell him there’s construction outside,” he murmured low. He felt her lips pull up against his hand and he waited until she nodded once, just barely, before lifting his palm from her mouth.

She cleared her throat as he reached around her into the sink, picking up the mug and filling it with water, chugging it down as she said, “just a lot of noise outside. Construction, you know.” Tora put the mug down on the counter, letting his hands skim down her sides as she leaned her head back against his chest, her breathing just slightly shallower than it’d been a moment ago.

Tora smirked, leaning down so that his lips brushed her ear as his brother bitched about the early-morning construction noises outside his penthouse in the downtown area of the city where he lived. Tora inhaled the smell of her sweet shampoo, could tell she’d just showered, “like ya hair, sweetheart.”

She huffed a silent laugh through her nose, as she whispered, enunciating each word, “I’m on the _phone_.”

“Mhmm,” he nodded against her pulling the bottom of her ear between his teeth, sucking gently as her breath hitched.

“Here, let me pull up the Pinterest link you sent,” Quincey sighed. “Did Tiger-boy tell you? I’ve got a lamp here with your name on it. I don’t want it going to just anyone.”

“Sounds good,” Bobby said, her voice breathy as Tora moved his left hand up from her waist to cup her tit, his thumb running soft across her nipple, finding her peak through the bra beneath her tank top. She slipped a hand back around between them, her palm finding his cock as she pressed against his length. Tora groaned into her shoulder, thrusting slowly at her touch as he breathed heavily through his nose. He slipped his left hand down from her chest, fingers pushing at the waistband of her shorts.

“I’ll have it dropped off sometime this week—oh, honey, this is…” Quincey trailed off for a moment. “I mean, granted, I’ve never _been_ to Ikea before, but this stuff isn’t half bad.” He paused for a moment, then, “is this real sheepskin?”

Tora slipped his hand down her shorts as she tried to respond to his brother, her answer catching on a gasp as Tora pressed his arm tight against her, fingers running along her folds, “it— _is_.”

“Color me impressed,” the other man murmured in disbelief, almost to himself. Tora panted heavy against her shoulder, his mouth open on her bare skin as he closed his eyes to the feel of her, already so fuckin’ wet. He slicked his fingers against her before moving to circle her clit.

“Hang up,” Tora breathed, kissing along the side of her throat, her jaw, as she angled her chin up for him. Poppy shook her head, could feel her swallowing against his lips as he groaned low in frustration. Just wanted to fuck her right here, to hear her again. “Bobby, hang up the goddamn phone,” he murmured against her skin, felt her laugh softly before he slipped two of his fingers inside her, her breath catching again. 

“Oh, this piece would work well with the mirror,” Quincey’s voice cut through the kitchen again as Tora huffed. “So, I mean, not to circle back. But what would you say?” his brother asked lightly.

Poppy took a deep inhale, trying to steady her breathing as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking up once as she asked, “say?”

“ _Tch_ ,” Quincey clicked his teeth on the other end as Tora ran his tongue along the dip where her shoulder met her neck. “Don’t play coy with me, honey. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Hang up,” Tora growled low, thrusting into her hand more insistently. He was fuckin’ done with this quiet shit and sure as fuck didn’t want Quince hearin’ ‘em. Would never hear the goddamned end of that.

Quincey huffed. “If he _asked_ , Poppy.”

Tora felt Poppy stiffen immediately, her hand leaving his cock as she pressed the end call button before pulling his hand out from her shorts. He felt his face pull into a frown as she turned around in his arms— _the fuck?_ “You,” she pressed a finger to his chest, “need to go shower so we can get going. You’re all sweaty.” She shook her head lightly. “I want to beat the rush—everyone goes on Sunday and parking can be a nightmare.”

He let her push him backwards toward the entrance to the kitchen, her hands falling to his waist as she turned him around. “Bobby, what in the—”

“I’m going to get a list started, because we definitely need more than just rugs—”

“Bobby.” Tora planted his feet, feeling her walk into him, her forehead hitting his back on a soft _oh_ before he turned around to face her again. “What the fuck just happened?” His hands came up to hold her shoulders—how’d they gotten across the apartment already? His fingers were even still wet from bein’ inside her, shit. He shook his head slightly from the fuckin’ whiplash, had been certain he’d known where things were headed, that he’d be fuckin’ her against the counter again, maybe test out whether her sittin’ on top would work with the different height of their new counters. But now…

She raised her eyebrows at him, plastering an innocent expression on her face. “You said to hang up, so I hung up.” She shrugged, “and you’re right, we _should_ get going.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “first of all, _I_ didn’t say that,” he frowned. “And second, ya know the reason I told ya to hang up was so we could—”

“Nope, we need the rugs first,” she interrupted, smiling at him. Tora shook his head slowly, didn’t know what the fuck she was schemin’ with Quincey, though it wasn’t anything new. Two fuckin’ peas in a pod.

He sighed, letting her turn him around again as she pushed him toward the bathroom. “How’s your back?” she deflected, her fingers trailing up over his shoulder as they reached the door.

Tora rolled his eyes. “Ya know, I can tell what ya doin’, Bobby. Ya not subtle at all.”

“And what am I doing?” she asked, flicking on the bathroom light and stepping around him to flip on the cold water. When she turned back around, she was smiling warmly, and Tora felt his frustration slip away from him as his eyes drew back up to her cute little buns. Fuck. He reached out and pinched her cheek, laughing softly as she pulled away from him.

“Back’s fine, Bobby. And we better be buyin’ every goddamn rug they got.”

She smirked at him, “cold water, okay?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose as she stepped back around him, leaving the room. “Told ya, sweetheart, I know what’s good for me.”

She turned to look over her shoulder at him, glancing down at his cock, “mhmm, wasn’t talking about your back.”

*

“Oh, look, there goes another one.”

Tora rolled his eyes as Poppy leaned over him, pointing her finger across the car out the driver’s side window as he drove past an open parking spot wedged between two large SUVs. “Nah, Bobby. Too small,” he shook his head.

They’d been driving up and down the levels of the parking garage for the last five minutes, looking for a spot that would accommodate his car without putting them too close to any of the other assholes who’d parked over the fuckin’ lines. He’d turned her playlist down almost all the way as their search had grown longer and longer, had even lowered the blast of the air conditioning through the vents. Each time they passed a spot, Bobby’d made a point of sayin’ some snarky shit—still upset that he’d insisted on driving.

“You know, _I_ would’ve been able to fit there,” she said, turning her head to keep her eyes on the spot as they passed it, staring wistfully out his window.

“Nah, ya just think that cause ya tiny, but ya would’ve scratched the sides. Fucker was over the line,” he grunted, referring to the way the SUV’s back tire had rested on top of the painted, yellow divider.

“Oh, so like, are you saying it’s actually _important_ to park inside the lines?” she asked, feigning surprise as she brought a hand to her chest. Tora rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. Fuck, he loved her teasin’, didn’t know why, but he fuckin’ loved it—always had. “You know,” she said, tapping her finger along his arm as he shook his head. “I live with someone who could really learn from your wisdom.” She leaned forward again, her lips suddenly by his ear as she grabbed his bicep, “teach him your driving ways, oh Great One,” she whispered.

He swallowed his laughter, trying desperately to maintain a straight face as he glanced at her, “no shit, Bob, for real? We got a roommate?” He heard her click her teeth, her shoulders deflating slightly at the way he’d countered her joke. She leaned back into her seat, her hand slipping down to the center console between them.

“What about that one?” she asked, pointing a couple spots ahead where there seemed to be an empty space. Tora craned his neck, turning the music down all the way and pulling the car to the far right as he prepared to swing a left into the spot, determined to line the car up fuckin’ perfect. “Oh, wait!” He braked hard, their bodies catching on the seatbelts—felt a little pop in his back at the unexpected force. “Sorry, there’s a motorcycle,” she said, nodding her head as he pulled forward, straightening the car out again as they passed. Sure the fuck enough, there was a bike in the spot.

“Fuck’s sake, it’s not even one of the compact spots,” he muttered, shaking his head. The spot, he could see as they passed, would’ve been perfect—wide enough with the cars on either side parked well away from the lines. Could’ve done it without even needing to back up, he was fuckin’ sure of it. _Goddamn motherfuckin’ piece of shit bike._

“You know that doesn’t help, right?” she asked, nodding toward the console.

He frowned slightly, “the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, Bobby?”

When he glanced at her, she was smirking, leaning forward to turn the music back up. “Lowering the volume. Doesn’t make you see better,” she said.

He rolled his eyes, letting his mouth fall open—they’d had this conversation too many goddamn times to count. Tora almost said _well, why don’t ya drive next time, sweetheart_ , but caught himself, choking slightly on the words before clearing his throat. Close one. “Told ya, helps me focus.

“Mmm,” he could hear her smiling, and he bit the inside of his cheek, ready for whatever the fuck she was ‘bout to lay on him. “A shame it doesn’t help you park.”

He shook his head, clenching his jaw and tightening his core to keep in the laughter that threatened to tear up from his stomach. “Ya real fuckin’ confident for a little hamster, ya know that?” he glanced over at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Wait ‘til we get home with those goddamn rugs,” he murmured.

“What, you going to make me pay for it?”

Tora swallowed harshly, suppressing a groan as he exhaled. Sweet fuck, didn’t wanna walk around the store with a fuckin’ hard-on. “That a spot?” he choked out, nodded on her right where he could see a gap in the cars.

From the corner of his eye, he watched her smirk at him before turning to follow his gaze. “M-mm,” she shook her head, “it’s for the carts.” He groaned, reaching a hand up to the roof of the car almost out of habit and quickly pulling it back down to the wheel. “Oh, but that one’s open,” she said, pointing ahead. He slowed down as they approached but took his foot off the brake a moment later, taking a deep breath as he drove by it, his eyes forward. He knew himself—no way was he gonna be able to fit. “Wait, what was wrong with that one?”

Tora shook his head, grunting, “over the lines.”

“That’s a load of bologna, and you know it,” she said, huffing loudly. He rolled his eyes, fuck, maybe he _should’ve_ let her drive. No way he could tell her that now, though. “Why don’t we switch.”

“The fuck ya mean, _switch_?” he said, glancing over at her where she’d pulled one of her knees up onto the seat to face him more fully, her arm still resting on the console.

“You know, since I’m the better driver—”

“Goddamn, Bob, ya too much, ya know that,” he laughed, shaking his head. A moment later, though, he felt relief surge up his spine as he smirked, an idea occurring to him. “Tell ya what, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes locked on a couple empty spots toward the back of the garage against the concrete wall, “ya can drive us home if ya want.” Tora slipped his right hand down into hers, suppressing a grin as her fingers excitedly laced between his.

“Yeah?” she asked. When he glanced over at her, she was beaming at him, hope bright in her eyes.

He laughed to himself, almost made him stop what he was about to say, but shit, she just made it too damn easy, “yeah, sweetheart. Gonna cost ya, though.” He didn’t have to look at her to tell that her smile had frozen on her face.

She huffed loudly, “okay, you thug. What is it this time?”

“Wild card, Bobby,” he said.

He glanced over at her as he pulled into one of the parking spots. Her mouth was open on a small frown of confusion. “Well, what does that mean?”

“Means I get to pick later, don’t gotta make up my mind right now.”

He smirked at her as he removed the keys from the ignition, throwing open his door and climbing carefully from the car into the humidity of the parking garage. Immediately, he could feel the moisture in the air clinging to his clothes, could feel the sweat already prickling at his pores as he ran a hand up over his still-damp hair, fingers catching in the hair tie as he pulled it free. He paused a moment when he was on his feet, arms raised as he put his hair back up in a full bun from where it’d already begun to stick to the back of his neck, shifting his hips slightly at the tension in his spine before turning to slam the door

“Soooo,” she walked around to meet him behind the trunk, crossing her arms as she waited for him to finish securing his hair, “what, like an IOU?”

“Whatever ya wanna call it, sweetheart,” he smirked, throwing his arm around her as he locked the car, walking them toward the entrance of the bright blue building.

She turned over her shoulder, peering up over his arm to try to look back at the car, but Tora shook his head, leaning down beside her as he maneuvered her to face back in front, knew she was gonna say some cheeky shit about his parking. “Whaddaya say, Bobby? Ya up for a little fun?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he felt her slip her right hand into his back pocket. “Got the keys right here, sweetheart,” he smirked, holding the fob up with his right hand, dangling it off his index finger as she huffed. Her fingers pinched his ass, “ah, shit, Bob.” He grinned at her—loved it when she got all fuckin’ feisty and handsy with him.

“I don’t know,” she said, biting her lip as she looked up at him. “Seems risky.”

“Mhmm,” he nodded as they approached the crosswalk that led up to the wide, glass sliding doors trimmed in the same bright-ass blue as the building. Like his fuckin’ balls since the kitchen that morning. “Know what else is risky?”

She sighed exaggeratedly. “No, I don’t. Tell me, Tora,” she said as they crossed to the sidewalk. “What else is risky?”

He leaned down close to her ear again, his cheek grazing one of the little buns on the side of her head as he murmured low, “lettin’ me drive us home when all I’m gonna be able to think about are the fuckin’ rugs and all the ways I’m gonna make ya pay for ya shit-talkin’ soon as we step through the door.” He turned his eyes toward the side of her face, taking in the way her lips twitched, her nostrils flaring.

“That’s if you aren’t all tired out from your first Ikea experience,” she smirked, flicking her eyes to his without moving her head as they stepped through the rush of hot air above the automatic doors and into the air-conditioning of the building. The sweat immediately cooled on his skin, the fabric of his shirt, damp, clinging to his torso as he stood back up, raising his eyebrows at her as she led him to a set of escalators.

“ _Pfft_ , my first experience? What am I, a fuckin’ virgin?” He laughed lightly through his nose, shaking his head as he slipped his arm from around her shoulders, instead grabbing her hand as she stepped onto the staircase first, turning to look at him as he followed. “S’a store, Bobby. Ya know I’ve been shoppin’ before, right? Ya not poppin’ my cherry, sweetheart.” Hell, she and Quince had dragged him to enough stores for a fuckin’ lifetime.

“Aw,” she said, biting her lip as she raised her eyebrows together, tilting her head at him, raising her free hand to stroke his cheek once. “Cute.”

_Cute? The fuck?_ Just as Tora was about to open his mouth, she turned around from him, the escalator opening up to a second floor where Tora could see what looked like a fuckin’ food court to the left opposite a sprawl of cash registers, each with a line stretching out to what looked like a fuckin’ warehouse. Groups of people with flatbeds piled high with boxes and other shit—he couldn’t even tell what. Children hangin’ off the sides, runnin’ around. The sounds of people shouting over the whir of industrial fans. Fuckin’ chaos. He felt her tugging his hand away from it all toward a pair of double doors painted yellow, thin windows cut in the metal on either side, could see even more people through the glass.

As she reached for the handle, Bobby paused, turning to look back at him for a moment. Tora felt his mouth fall open at what she said next. “There are arrows on the floor, so if we get separated, just follow the path until you get to the sign with the meatballs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tora got those blue balls like the damn building.
> 
> Ch. 6: Will Tora need to rely on the floor signs? Will they ever find the rugs? How many plants will Poppy want to get?


	6. Staging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora and Poppy walk through the big yellow doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha I'm having a lot of fun with this one. Thank you for all your comments, they make me smile so much 😍😍😍
> 
> As always, characters belong to the real MVP Lilydusk, brilliant creator of Midnight Poppy Land. Support her on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/lilydusk

**Chapter 6**

As she reached for the handle, Bobby paused, turning to look back at him for a moment. Tora felt his mouth fall open at what she said next. “There are arrows on the floor, so if we get separated, just follow the path until you get to the sign with the meatballs.”

_The fuck?_ “Bobby…” he said, halfway expecting her to walk through the door without waiting to hear the rest of his sentence she seemed so excited to get to whatever lay ahead, but she stopped—of course she stopped, he thought, she always made time for him. She moved out of the way as a young couple bustled past them, the man dragging a toddler along by the arm as the two parents bickered, the woman huffing, “we’re not getting the Malm again. It falls apart every damn time. We’re getting the Tarva.” Tora watched as they disappeared past the yellow doors, frowning as he heard the man respond with something about coping. What the fuck had the woman said? Sounded like fuckin’ nonsense.

“I don’t think twelve will cover the floor—do you?”

Tora whipped as a group of three young people approached up the escalator, their laughs carrying up the moving stairs.

“Well, if we just buy the big ones—” the man started before being cut off by one of the women.

“Twelve. Twelve pillows for the whole floor, Memo? Give me a break—”

“Well, we need a flatbed regardless,” the third one said, waving a hand at the other two as they all breezed past where Tora and Poppy stood.

Poppy nodded at him, her hand coming up to rest on his chest, drawing his attention back to her face as the door swung shut behind the family of three. He licked his lips, swallowing at the feeling of nerves fluttering in his stomach. Why the fuck was he nervous? Didn’t even know yet what was on the other side of the doors—just more people as far as he could tell. Then again, until he’d met Bobby, shopping—surrounded by people who cowered from him—had never been his favorite thing to do. “Yeah, Tora?”

He blinked a couple times, focusing on her eyes, her brows drawn up in concern. “Ya said if we get separated?”

She smiled, nodding slow. “Yeah, it won’t happen. We’ll be together the whole time, but—just in case—I thought it’d be helpful for you to know. Cell service can get a little iffy the further in you go.” She patted his chest once, “there are signs and maps literally everywhere, though, and the whole store is set up on one long path.”

“Maps?” he repeated. And had she said their phones wouldn’t work? Where in the fuck had she brought him?

“Mhmm,” she nodded again. “So it’s, like, nearly impossible to get lost unless you’re, like, eight.”

“Eight, huh?” he watched as another family rushed by them, the three children in tow practically screaming—but they were smiling? Tora frowned in confusion, _seriously, the fuck was this place?_ “What, cause of height?” he asked, remembering the signs at the theme park that she and Quincey had dragged him to a couple weeks ago when the first true mid-summer heat wave had settled heavy over the city. He’d been stupid that night when they’d gotten back all hot and sweaty, skin coated with dust from the dirt paths, hopping in the shower together. When he’d felt her hands slip around him from behind under the spray of the water, he’d thought it a good idea to bring up the signs again, her height, holding his hand up to his collarbone joking, _must be this tall to ride, shorty_ , but had quickly backtracked as she’d damn near immediately stepped back out of the shower, realizing almost too late that she wasn’t in the begging mood.

She laughed, “sure, but the signs are on the floor, too. Like I said, nearly impossible to lose your way.” When he didn’t say anything, she grinned, “are you worried about losing me?”

Tora blinked. “Well, shit, sweetheart. Now I am.”

She laughed at the look on his face, rubbing her palm along his chest before slipping her fingers into his hand and leading him back toward the door, “good thing you’re a giant.”

_Pfft, a giant_. At her teasing and her touch, he felt the knot of tension that’d balled in his neck loosen. Shit was fine—Bobby was here. Just another Sunday morning.

He nodded, inclining his head toward the door, “so, we pick ya rugs and then we’re good?”

She laughed, “oh no. It’s impossible to leave here with just one thing,” she said, pulling open the door as Tora grabbed the top of the metal to hold it wide for her as she walked through, pulling him after her. “And we have to actually get _to_ the rugs before we can pick any out.”

“ _To_ them? Bobby…” he trailed off, taking in the large room they’d stepped into, seemingly endless. Where the fuck were the walls? The ceiling seemed to be held up by large concrete columns, spaced evenly from each other, and sure the fuck enough there were arrows on the ground pointing along a path that wound around sections of shelves and drywall only a couple feet wide, all of which were lined with more shelves and baskets. Nothing like the grocery store where the aisles were short and straight, where the shelves were lined neatly with rows of cans and boxes. And there were people everywhere, walking along the path but also not—he watched as a young couple darted out from a row of shelves ahead of them to the left holding a large blue bag, easily weaving around the slower-moving families with carts that blocked parts of the aisle with the arrows, hanging halfway between shelves as they shouted to each other. He felt a tug on his hand and looked down at Poppy who was biting her lip against a grin as she took in his expression. Tora quickly closed his mouth, realizing his tongue was dry from having been gaping at the scene they’d stepped into.

“Come on,” she pulled on his hand again, leading him over to the wall with the yellow doors—could see the escalator through the glass, the line of cash registers opposite the food court. How the hell would they even get there? Usually there was a front and a back of the store—he always knew where the exits were, always had an eye on the walls. But here…shit, here there _were_ no fuckin’ walls besides the one they’d just stepped through.

“Bobby, what the hell happens if there’s an emergency? A fire?” he asked, glancing out across the expanse of shelves and people. Saw a green sign for an exit, but it was pointed out the way they’d just come. What about as they got further into the store?

She tilted her head, shrugging. “I guess we’d just follow the arrows. But there’s not going to be an emergency,” she said, putting her hand on his chest again and holding his gaze until he nodded. “We’re going to need a cart,” she said, pulling one out from a long stack of metal shopping baskets that were lined against the wall. He glanced back over his shoulder at the pathway, thick with people. Goddamn, how in the fuck were they supposed to get a cart around all those families?

“Bobby, I can just carry the rugs,” he said, putting a palm on the handle of the cart to stop her from pulling it out all the way.

She looked up at him in surprise, her mouth open around a grin, “oh, Tora.” She put a hand to his chest, stroking over his heart as he frowned, “my sweet tiger. We need a cart,” she said, nodding definitively before she removed his hand from the grip.

“Shit, fine,” he muttered, guiding her away from it by the shoulders. “Least let me push it,” he said, shaking his head. Fuckin’ stubborn as shit. “And the fuck do meatballs gotta do with anythin’?” he asked, remembering her other words of advice. As he turned the cart around, she moved to the front of it, wrapping her fingers around the end, laughing.

“Oh, you’ll see. We get a reward if we make it through the store unscathed,” she smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows. _Unscathed, pfft_. Could tell she was bustin’ his balls as he watched her pull out her phone. “And it’s not just meatballs—there’s other stuff, too. Like chicken and quiche, salmon, chocolate cake and frozen yogurt, hotdogs,” as she listed the foods, she tilted her head side to side, swiping around on the screen before glancing back up at him. “You’ll like it.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. Sure he fuckin’ would, he thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes—the fuck kind of rug store sold fuckin’ meatballs? He asked her as much and she smiled, biting her lip. “Not a rug store. They sell all kinds of furniture. And food,” she laughed at the look on his face. Glancing back down at her phone, she nodded, “okay, so we need a fan—”

“Nah, we need a fuckin’ AC unit,” he interrupted, shaking his head, “and a dehumidifier. Fuck, all of the above.” She smiled, rolling her eyes. “Not gonna be able to fuckin’ sleep in that goddamn sweat box.”

“How about, _cooling devices_ for the grumpy tiger,” she asked, typing it out onto her phone.

_Pfft, grumpy tiger_. He sighed, shit, he couldn’t help it. Shopping—being confined in small spaces with strangers—always got him on edge. Tora took a deep breath, trying to center in this moment. “That a list, Bobby?” he asked, leaning on his elbows as he tried to peer over her shoulder. “What else ya got?”

“I _was_ reading it to you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him as he sighed. As she turned back to her phone, she started walking, attempting to pull the cart forward, but Tora didn’t budge.

“Thought ya were readin’ the list,” he said when she looked back at him.

“Well, yeah,” she said, frowning slightly as she gestured at the path in front of them, “but I can walk and talk.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, looking out at the crowded aisle. “Ya gonna get run over, shorty. Hop on.” He nodded toward her end of the cart and waited as she huffed. “Don’t act like ya don’t love ridin’ around on the fuckin’ cart, just get on,” he insisted—could see her biting back a smile until she finally climbed onto the end of the cart, one hand gripping the metal wire as the other held her phone. She looked up at him, rolling her eyes at his grin before unlocking her phone again.

“No interrupting this time,” she said as he began to push them down the path, “and if you see something good, put it in the cart.”

“Somethin’ good? What, like ya sweets?” he asked, thinking of the way she liked to throw all kinds of junk food into the cart when they went grocery shopping.

“No, like…” she looked around as they passed by a display that had buckets of different shit on all four sides. She hopped off the cart without warning, and Tora quickly pulled to the side, narrowly avoiding the three people who’d appeared behind them. He recognized them from the escalators and felt his eyebrows shoot up as they passed by slowly—already pushing a flatbed piled high with pillows, two of them walking on either side, holding the stack up while the third tried to maneuver carefully around corners and other carts. They didn’t seem to care, though, as they moved around him like water. He smiled at one of the pillows on top—green in the shape of spikey plant. Shit, Bobby’d like that, he thought, turning to tell her as she ran up to him. “Like this,” Poppy said, popping back out from the other side of the display. She was holding something white, looked almost like a dish with shallow walls, but it had a little cylinder protruding from the center with a hole in the middle.

He forgot about the pillow as he looked at what she was holding. “The fuck is that, Bobby?”

She flipped it until she found the tag hanging off the side, “it’s the Godtagbar.”

He leaned forward on his elbows again, as he shook his head, pressing a hand to the back of his ear, “what was that, sweetheart.” She smiled, laughing as she repeated the word. Still had no fuckin’ clue what she was sayin’. “What is it?”

“A candlestick,” she replied, putting it in the cart.

“Why not just call it a candlestick.”

“Well, all the names are in Swedish,” she said as thought that explained everything.

“Oh, all the names are in Swedish. Of course,” he said, rolling his eyes lightly and biting back a smile. She was too fuckin’ cute with her little buns and her guitar-stick whatever-the-fuck she’d said.

He raised his eyebrows as he watched her set it down gently against the metal before hopping back up on the back end of the cart. “Oi, Bobby. Why do we need a candlestick?”

“For candles.”

“ _Pfft_ , no shit, Bobby. A candlestick for candles?” He smirked as she huffed. “Thought we were lookin’ to cool down the apartment, not heat it up some more. Ya know,” he leaned over the cart a little more as his back twinged, “there’s other ways to heat up the place if that’s what ya wanna do, Bobby.” He stood up then as she huffed his name, looking back down at her phone as he stretched. Could feel a small pop at the base of his neck. The cool air was helping, though. A lot. They definitely needed a window unit for the apartment. Maybe two.

“As I was _saying_ ,” she said, emphasizing the last word as she glanced up at him, “we need a fa—cooling device,” she smiled, “rugs, I definitely want to check out the plants, and I was thinking maybe we could also pick up a new bed frame?” She raised her voice at the end like it was a question as he pushed her past another display that she quickly reached out to, grabbing a set of white and red rags bundled together and tossing them in the cart. “Can never have too many towels,” she shrugged.

He inclined his head toward her phone, “ya said a bed frame? Didn’t I just haul ya old one up three flights of stairs?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” she nodded slowly, “but I was thinking we should get a bigger size since my mattress wasn’t exactly made for a giant.” He nodded—she had a point. Her bed was fuckin’ Bobby-sized and he hadn’t wanted to take the mattress from his shithole apartment. He’d tried to take as little as possible from that old life into his new one with her. “Plus,” she said softer, “it’ll be _our_ bed. Not just mine or yours.” He couldn’t help but smile at that.

“‘Kay, Bobby. New bed frame. What about a mattress,” he asked.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’ll fit in the car,” she smiled as he pushed the cart around a column, the path turning and opening up to a section of the store that was full of lights—all kinds, plugged in the walls, standing on the floors, hell—some were even hanging from the ceiling. Tora could feel his expression slide into something like shock as his eyes zeroed in on a collection of glowing orbs strung from the ceiling—looked almost like they were made of paper…flowers? The white petals blooming away from the center of the spheres, casting the floor beneath in soft strokes of light. “I’d say we should get a lamp,” she said, watching his expression with a wide grin, “since the overhead lights are so dim, but I think Quincey might kill us if we got something at Ikea to go with his fancy designer one.”

“Could put it in the bedroom,” he murmured, looking back up at the lights. A second later, he felt her tugging the cart off the path to the right and under the flowery light until they’d reached another orb hanging from a low section of ceiling strung up above a table and chairs. Looked like a fuckin’ egg—white for the most part, a hard plastic shell, but it was cracked all over, slivers of coppery light slipping out from the center. “The fuck is that,” he asked as she reached up to run her fingers over the smooth curve of the shell.

“A light,” she turned around to smile at him.

“Bobby,” he said, gesturing toward the cracks, “barely lets any light out. Fuckin’ useless.” He shook his head, his fingers finding the tag, “mother _fucker_ ,” he breathed, looking at the price.

“Tora, kids,” she hissed, turning to smack his bicep lightly where it was raised between them.

“Shit—” he looked around. She was right, there were lots of fuckin’ kids all around, could hear their high-pitched squeals over the sound of adults talking about furniture and shit.

I always like this one,” she said, moving to pull the string.

“Why? Doesn’t even fuckin’ work and they want _this_ much,” he flipped the tag so she could see the numbers. Since the trial and leaving the clan, he’d become a lot more aware of how much shit cost. Until Bobby, he’d never planned for the future when it came to money—fuck, he’d never planned for the future at all until meeting her. But she’d helped him imagine the possibility—however slim it’d been at the time—of a life, a future, out from under Vincent’s cloud. And that required a fuckin’ savings account, which she’d been all too happy to help him with.

“You just have to open it up,” she said, pulling on the string. He watched as the cracks along the shell widened, the pieces splitting apart in a slow motion shatter, the light escaping from the center where Tora could see the bulb. “You don’t like it,” she said, looking at him. He let his arm fall, dropping the tag from his fingers as he glanced down at the table, watching as the light disappeared when she closed the orb again.

He shrugged. Didn’t get the point of a light that didn’t let any light out. “Ya just like it cause ya get to play with it,” he smirked, tilting his head at the bowl of fruit on the table below the lamp. What the hell was a bowl of fruit doin’ in the lamp section? He frowned, picking up one of the apples—lighter than usual and when he squeezed, his thumb left a slight impression in the surface. Definitely not fuckin’ real, but why the hell would anyone buy fake fuckin’ fruit? He extended it out to her wordlessly and she laughed. “What’s so funny, Bobby?” he asked.

“It’s not real,” she said, taking it from his hand and placing it back in the bowl before she pulled on the front of the cart again, leading him away from the table.

“Yeah, no shit. But why—”

“It’s called staging,” she said, pulling the cart around a column and stopping at a row of shelves under a sign that read _SYMFONISK_. Tora felt his eyes widen, his brows shoot up, as he looked at the devices crammed haphazardly together on the shelves—cylinder-lookin’ things about the size of Bobby’s hand with a rounded head on top. Looked a lot like some of the shit they’d seen at the sex shop the one time they’d gone. “They try to make it look like an actual room so you can see what the products look like outside the packaging,” she explained as she picked one of the devices up, turning it over in her hands. He tried not to think about the way she’d blushed when they’d passed by the vibrators, the way she moaned whenever they used the small one she’d ended up getting. Fuck, he wanted to hear her again. Needed those goddamn rugs. “I think people are probably more likely to buy if they can see the stuff in action, you know?” she said turning toward him. _In action_ , fuck. Yeah, he’d buy the whole damn shelf if he could see her in action with the fuckin’ vibrator-lookin’ things.

She pressed a switch then, saying, “look,” as she held the device toward him, the top part of it suddenly lighting up. “The top part’s a lamp and the bottom part is a speaker,” she said, turning it off. “We should get one for the kitchen.” He watched as she leaned to put it in the cart.

“Thought ya didn’t wanna get a lamp. With Quince and all,” he said.

“It’ll be our secret light,” she smiled, “doesn’t even really look like a lamp, right?”

He laughed, shit, she got that right. And if Quince saw it on their fuckin’ kitchen counter, he sure as shit wouldn’t think it was a lamp either.

“What’d ya call it, Bobby,” he asked as she pulled the cart back onto the pathway, maneuvering the front around the people with the pillows who had stopped to look at one of the lighting displays.

“Our secret lamp,” she smiled, looking back at him.

Tora laughed, “nah, with the fake rooms and shit,” he nodded as they passed another dining table—a single bulb hanging above it. Looked almost sad compared to the rest of the wild shit they’d just passed.

“Oh, staging.”

“Stagin’,” he murmured to himself as they turned another corner on the path, the space opening up into a different layout—on either side of the pathway were different fake rooms that Tora could see led into other fake rooms. Poppy darted ahead to an area on the right that had a couch set up in front of a long console, a TV on a short stretch of wall painted dark blue and a small table in the middle on top of a rug that looked like it was woven from dried bits of grass. He pulled the cart up next to the couch, watching as she sank down onto the cushions, smiling. She patted the one beside her, turning to look at him and gesturing wordlessly for him to join her. Tora pushed the cart as far out of the path as he could, glancing around quickly—they’d seemed to have left behind a majority of the people that had clogged the aisles. He moved over to her, sitting down beside her with a grunt as his back cracked and lifting his arm around the back of the cushion as she moved closer, leaning against his ribs.

“It lets you imagine yourself actually using the products and gives you ideas for what other ones you might want, too. But,” she snuggled closer to him, leaning up to whisper in his ear, “I always liked pretending I lived here, in the different rooms, you know. Almost like imagining yourself into a different life.”

He laughed soft. Could definitely see her doin’ cute shit like pretending the fruit was real. “Ya still do that?”

He felt her shake her head against him, “not in the same way. I used to imagine myself in the city, living on my own—a writer in a swanky apartment with cool lights and fluffy rugs.”

“Swanky, huh.”

She laughed softly, her body shaking against his—the heat of her welcome in the cool air-conditioned space. Could feel the blow of the air from somewhere above them, catching along the stray hairs that’d escaped from his bun at the back of his neck. “Yeah, now it’s more like…” she trailed off, could hear her swallow before she continued, “like I can imagine that your video game stuff would go right there,” she said, pointing at the glass shelf that ran along the middle of the console. “And that shelf looks like it could use a plant,” he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Oh yeah, Bobby? And what ‘bout this rug,” he asked, toeing at the rough-looking mat. He dragged his eyes up from the floor to look at her reflection in the TV.

“I think we can do better,” she said, standing up and turning to glance at him, the hint of a smirk on her lips as she bent over, touching a hand to the material. She looked over her shoulder at him, waiting until he’d dragged his eyes away from her ass to look at her face, her tongue along her teeth. “Seems like it’d be a little rough on your knees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 7: We still got shit to get at Ikea cause so far there's only random shit in the cart that they didn't come for 😂😂but Poppy has a list, so let's hope she stays on track 😂

**Author's Note:**

> ✨Come say hi on IG @melarela1223 where I post WIPs, inspo, and other random shit about my MPL obsession✨


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